


Kinsey Two

by thatsmistertoyou



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Biphobia, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Masturbation, Panic Attacks, Self-Acceptance, Sexuality Crisis, these tags are a wild ride wow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 02:20:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5029945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsmistertoyou/pseuds/thatsmistertoyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Kinsey scale, also called the Heterosexual–Homosexual Rating Scale, attempts to describe a person’s sexual experience or response at a given time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kinsey Two

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of the Phandom Big Bang 2015!
> 
> So it’s a bit of an understatement to say that this fic is my baby. It just kind of took over my first PBB idea and worked its way into being one of my fave things I’ve ever written, and also one of the biggest efforts I’ve ever given in writing a fic. I’ve put a big piece of myself in this fic, and I hope that yall can relate. huge hugs and love to my beta (demisexualhowell) and artist (phanbunny) for being flexible and offering so much support and encouragement of this idea, and for their hard work throughout this whole process. extra shoutouts are also due to hearteyeshowell and philslesters, who were with me every step of the way and, as always, whose impact on my work is immeasurable. Enjoy. <3
> 
> art for this fic can be found here! http://phanbunny.tumblr.com/post/131464101468/this-is-my-art-contribution-to-the-pbb-for-the-fic

Dan sits on his doorstep, legs stretched in front of him, knocking the toes of his trainers together until he sees Ella’s car pull up. To be fair, he heard it before he saw it, and she waves at him as she quiets the noisy transmission and gets out of the car. He grins and waves back, nearly losing his footing as he stands up. Dan pokes his head into the house to tell his dad he’s leaving. When he locks the door and turns around, Ella’s right in front of him, dangling keys in his face.

“Guess who’s got a car?”

“How many guesses do I get?” he asks, snatching the keyring from her hand and holding it out of reach.

“One,” she says, her voice tight as she balances on her tiptoes to retrieve her keys, entirely in vain. She throws an arm around Dan’s shoulders and tries to push him down.

“Let - me - think,” Dan says, laughing, trying to hold her back with his free arm around her waist. He gives up, bending his arm so Ella can grab the keys. She lets out a victorious “ha!” and slips the ring around her finger.

“I think it’s you,” he says, and she smiles at him, all unabashed affection.

“I think you’re right,” she replies, wrapping her other arm around him and kissing him. Dan holds her tight, relishing the little flip his stomach does when she pulls away and then kisses him one more time - quick and barely there.

“Want to go for a ride?” she asks, and Dan grabs her hand and intertwines their fingers.

“Lead the way.”

x

Ella’s parents are away for the weekend, but Dan’s parents don’t know that. Dan’s a bit eager to go back to hers, given how few and far between their alone time is, but she manages to coax him into taking the long way.

“This thing’s gotta earn its title,” she says, tapping the dashboard before dutifully replacing her hands at ten and two.

“Title?”

“I was thinking it’d call it The Speedwagon.”

Dan stares at her, and they’re stopped at a red light, so she stares back.

“What?”

“A Volkswagen, owned by a girl whose favourite band is REO Speedwagon, called The Speedwagon. Brilliant.”

“You’re damn right,” she says, sitting up straight. “And I wouldn’t really say they’re my favourite. Definitely favourite band that’s had more members than years I’ve been alive.”

“That’s ‘cause they’ve been around about three times longer than you’ve been alive.”

“That’s a lie,” she says, flinging a hand out to playfully smack him.

Dan places his hand over hers, stilling it, before slipping his fingers between hers and setting their clasped hands on the center console.

“Need both hands to drive, Howell,” she says, bringing the back of his hand to her mouth and kissing it before letting it go. “You pick the music then, since you’re so high and mighty about 80’s rock.” She tilts her head towards the glove compartment.

“You know I love all kinds of music,” he says, popping it open and rifling through the CDs. He’s already planning to make her a mix CD, but for now, _Riot!_ will do just fine.

“And yet,” she says, tapping along to the opening guitar while Dan mimes the drums. “I feel like you’re going to play this every time you’re in the car with me.”

“Probably.”

Dan decides that this album necessitates screaming along to the lyrics, so they don’t talk much, even though Ella takes the detour of the backroad of the scenic route to her house. He doesn’t mind.

x

Ella’s kissing him the moment her keys hit the kitchen counter, and he loves how thoroughly she can steal the air from his lungs and breathe it back into his neck, warmer and sweeter than before.

“My brother’s gonna be home from work at like seven,” she says, glancing past his shoulder at the clock on the microwave. He follows her gaze.

“Gives us practically all day, then,” he smirks. “What d’you wanna do?”

“Less of a ‘what’ and more of a ‘who’,” she replies, pulling him by the wrist up the staircase. “Unless you’re into that.”

“Into what?”

“Being objectified or whatever it’s called.” They pause for a moment in the center of the room. Ella switches the ceiling fan on.

“I don’t think that’s what that means,” Dan replies, his eyes tracking the movement while she crosses her arms over her stomach, grabs the hem of her shirt, and pulls it over her head. She’s wearing a black bra that he remembers complimenting once, although it’s entirely possible that she has more than one. Makes her boobs look good though, so he kind of hopes she does. “How do girls do that so easily?” he wonders aloud, not fully talking about the shirt removal process, and she smiles.

“Here,” she says, grabbing his arms and arranging them into an x across his chest. “Now take the bottom of your shirt and pull it up while you raise your arms up.”

“What.” It isn’t even a question, and she just laughs.

“You’re adorable when you’re clueless.”

“I have that going for me quite often, then.”

“I’ll say.”

Ella closes her hands over his and guides his shirt off the way she did her own, and Dan sputters when he’s run out of arm and the damn thing is still over his face. He wiggles his head and tries to duck out of the collar, and after a few seconds of struggle, is freed.

Ella’s losing her shit, head in her hands, doubled over until she steadies herself on the edge of her bed.

“That’s okay, I’ve got it,” Dan says, chucking his shirt at her. She throws it back halfheartedly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “You okay over there?” he huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Never better, really,” she says, looking him up and down. “Get over here.”

“You still want me even though I can’t take off my shirt all sexy like girls do?”

“The way guys do it is foreign to me too. You can’t just pluck it from the back of your neck like that when you have boobs.”  

“Guess not,” he says, but he hasn’t given it a lick of thought, as Ella’s scooting up the bed to give him room and the movement jostles one of her bra straps off of her shoulder.

Dan climbs on top of her, and her fingertips wind into his hair the moment he’s within reach. He closes his eyes and kisses her like he has a thousand times before, but it never really seems to bore him, because _god_ does it feel nice to be wanted.

It’s inexplicably hot to know that her hands are there to trace his body the moment he’s close enough, that they direct his own to the places she wants him to be, that she’s enjoying herself when they scratch down his biceps. Dan recognises that maybe sex with Ella is so good because it’s the only sex he’s ever had, and maybe he’d be okay with it if that were true for the rest of his life, but sometimes his mind wanders.

Sometimes he needs to close his eyes and imagine something else to keep his focus; not that Ella isn’t captivating and beautiful and entirely enough in every other way, but he stresses about his performance and the little montage in his head keeps him hard and in the mood. Usually he’ll let whatever porn comes to mind take over his headspace, sometimes it’s a girl and a guy, or two girls. Which makes actual sense, since he’s a guy having sex with a girl, and two girls is just double what he wants. But sometimes, it’s two guys.

And when it is, he doesn’t give himself time to feel guilty before he pushes the thought from his mind. Sure, he watches gay porn sometimes, but when he’s with Ella, he could at least _try_ to care that she’s a girl. Which doesn’t make any fucking sense, but the mental picture of two girls going at it is enough to finish him off, and then he can focus on Ella.

He thinks it’s pretty impossible that he doesn’t like girls enough to keep the guys from his head or his web history, because Ella really is gorgeous and so receptive to his attention, and he loves her, no matter what kind of porn he was into the previous night. She doesn’t need to know why he gets into that mood sometimes, and neither does he.

x

Their third anniversary is coming up, and Dan’s truly impressed with how prepared he is, given that he’s already got an actual gift (fuzzy dice to hang from the rearview mirror) and half a tracklist for a mix CD (that he’s been meaning to make her for about three years). They might be better described as gifts for The Speedwagon rather than Ella, but he digresses.

_“I’ve already got yours too,”_ she teases, and despite the shitty phone reception in his room, he can hear the smirk on her face. _“And I know what you’re going to get me.”_

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Dan sits up and wiggles his foot at the edge of his bed, as it’s gone to sleep. They’ve been on the phone for - he pulls the phone away from his face - forty-five minutes, and he hadn’t moved at all.

_“If I know you, then it’s a mixtape.”_ Dan sputters exaggeratedly, and she gives a triumphant laugh. _“Because we’ve been dating for three years and you still haven’t made me an official one.”_

“It’s not just that, though.”

_“I knew that too.”_

“I’m going to make every other song ‘Keep On Loving You’. You watch. It’ll be like you were actually alive when that song came out and you couldn’t escape the hell that was how overplayed that song was.”

_“You weren’t alive either. How would you know?”_

“I asked my dad once. He said it was.”

_“Irrefutable evidence, right there. I surrender to your biting wit and infallible logic.”_

“Shut up.”

_“I might actually. Gotta go finish some homework.”_

“Alright,” Dan replies, glancing at his closed door and lamenting the fact that it’s unlocked. “See you tomorrow.”

_“Yeah. You do your homework too, yeah?”_

“I’ll consider it.”

_“Right. See you tomorrow. I -”_ she drags the vowel out while she thinks of anything else to say, then pauses to make sure she leaves him with the right parting words. Evidently having come up with nothing, she tells him, _“I love you.”_

“Love you too. See you.”

_“Bye.”_

Dan heaves himself off of his bed to lock the door: a precautionary measure in case his brother doesn’t knock. His parents are poignantly aware of his teenagerdom and know better than to not knock for this exact reason.

He strips off his boxers and leaves them close by, nicking the bottle of lotion and tissues he keeps in his bedside drawer and then rolling onto his side, in front of his open laptop. He’s got the time and a pair of headphones already plugged in, so he figures he can take his time and find whatever his pleasure is today.

Dan is thankful for the fact that porn websites aren’t _as_ repulsive as they could be when you’re already in the mood - _no I don’t want to fuck busty mums in my area thanks -_ and just tries to ignore the horrible video titles and adverts that follow him while he scrolls down the homepage.

Nothing really catches his fancy - at least enough to deter from the less-than-fifty-percent thumbs up rating - so he gives in to the ache and starts up without a visual. He squeezes some of the lotion onto his hand, and entirely too much comes out. He sighs.

Wiping the excess on his thigh, he finally runs his palm over his cock, wasting no time in getting a firm grip and coating it with the lotion. He’s taught himself to get off completely silently, so he lets out a long breath through his nose without making a sound. After a few strokes to get himself fully hard, he forces himself to slow down. It’d just be a waste of computer battery to finish before he can even find a video.

Biting his lip and keeping a bit-too-firm grip on his cock, he types one word into the searchbar with his right hand: _blowjob_. Upon further thought, he considers that he should have been more specific, as literally thousands of results come up in a colourful mix of unflattering thumbnails.

Girl on guy blowjobs are usually no fun to watch, as the girls usually look dead behind the eyes. Dan doesn’t quite understand how these videos make it from someone’s camera to his computer screen, but he doesn’t think it’s all that fun for the girls who get cum in their hair, no matter how much noise they make or how much they insist that they want to keep their heels on.

His cock is beginning to get annoyed with the slow, unexciting pace, as heat is building in his body and demanding actual relief. Ella pokes fun at how little she has to tease to get him wriggling around for more, but what can he say? It starts to hurt after a while.

Dan gives his head a little shake to clear it. He’s an impatient, horny teenager - he should at least be able to focus while masturbating. He clicks on the first video he sees, and pops one earbud into his ear.

There’s absolutely no pretense, just two guys with their cocks out and ready to go, and one drops to his knees. Too tired of waiting for the ‘right’ visual stimulus, Dan just goes for it, stroking his cock in time with the ministrations of the guy’s mouth. Imagining any sort of skilled mouth on him is plenty, but the noise from the video is borderline grotesque.

The dude receiving head won’t stop with the weird dirty talk, and the dude giving it is making absolutely obscene moans, and given how deep he’s taking it, Dan doesn’t know how his throat is multitasking that well. Fuck it.

He slams the laptop shut and rolls onto his back, sighing out through his mouth and taking advantage of the fuller range of motion his hand has. He works in long, firm movements, thumb grazing over his slit on the downstroke. His eyelids squeeze shut, and he focuses on the slick, hot pressure, his jaw going slack.

His lips have gone dry, so he licks them, just as the guy in the video had done before taking the other’s dick into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks and swallowing it down in one go. Dan’s never done it, but he thinks he might like it if his partner were into it - never mind that said partner would have to have a penis.

Maybe he would like grabbing onto his partner’s hips and taking him deeper, maybe he would like the feeling of a cock rubbing against the inside of his cheek and stretching his jaw ‘till it aches, maybe he would close his eyes and relish the fingers in his hair that would egg him on.

_Fuck fuck fuck -_ he manages to keep all the swearing in his mind as his back arches off the bed and the tension in his body mounts. He fidgets, shoulders digging into the mattress, head turning back and forth as he strokes himself faster, not even caring that he’s worked past the help of the lotion and precum and it’s getting a bit dry. The extra friction brings him closer to the edge until he’s too close to consider taking his hand away long enough to swipe along the extra bit of lotion that’s still sitting on his thigh.

His chest is heaving now and he breathes out through his dry lips, silent but heavy. He swipes his right hand across his forehead to unstick the fringe from his skin, but the combing motion is interrupted by a particularly strong wave of pleasure, and he grabs his hair in his fingers and pulls. _God,_ he loves having his hair pulled - and he’s sure he would still like it with a dick in his throat and strong hands keeping him down as long as he can stand - _fuck._

Climax hits him like a brick wall, his toes curling and his left hand applying harder and then looser pressure as he works through it. Even with years of practice, his breath hitches audibly when he’s totally spent, his fingers finally falling away from his face.

His arm weighs a ton when he tosses it to the side in search of tissues, and he cleans himself off with slow, syrupy movements. He’s too high and sleepy to consider that he just got off to the thought of giving head, so he just throws the covers over his waist and forgets about it for a while. He feels too nice to be gay.

x

The fuzzy dice Dan bought for Ella dangle proudly from the rearview mirror, which makes Dan grin when he climbs into the driver’s side of the Speedwagon. She loved the mix CD too, and his ironic inclusion of “Keep On Loving You” as the first track. It’s playing when he starts the car.

“Couldn’t be bothered to change the CD, huh?” he asks, and she just nods and stares out the window, conspicuously silent. “You okay?”

He shifts gears into drive and backs out, and it takes until he’s on the road and headed for the cinema for her to respond.

“Yeah, I just,” she pauses, and Dan’s kind of thankful for the fact that he’s driving and can’t overthink whatever clues her facial expression might give him. His chest tightens in anticipation.

“I got accepted to the University of London,” she says, her voice oddly detached, as though she doesn’t believe it.

“What? That’s amazing! Congrats.” Dan thinks he may have put too much enthusiasm in his reply, given that Ella’s been oddly quiet all evening and has given no hints that it’s something to be happy about.

“Thanks,” she says, her voice lighter now. “It’s just been hard to process. I mean I know I’ve gone through all the stress and applications and stuff but now that I’ve actually gotten a reply it’s just - surreal? Like. I’m actually going to uni. This is a thing that will happen.”

“Yeah,” Dan agrees, swallowing hard. He’s not going to uni - at least not yet. The thought intimidated him so much that he’d have rather swallowed a bag of sand than think about doing more education, in an area that he had to pick and seemingly stick with for the rest of his life. True to form, he decided to put it off. “‘S that why you’ve been so quiet?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Just been lost in thought, I guess,” she says, and they’re at a stop sign, so Dan steals a glance at her. Ella smiles weakly. “So how are things with you?”

“Alright. You remember I told you about Phil?”

“Phil…?” she ponders, then something clicks. “AmazingPhil? The guy from YouTube?”

“Yeah.”

“What about him?”

“I’ve actually been talking to him. He sent me a message on Twitter and we got to talking about Muse and stuff, and he’s really cool.”

"Oh, that's cool! You must be really excited that he finally replied."

Dan sputters, and Ella laughs, because they both know how ecstatic he is about it and his attempt at playing it cool is entirely for naught.

"Yeah. I might've fallen out of my chair but you can't prove anything."

"Right. I'm pretty sure that the sky is still blue and the pope is still Catholic, so you're still a massive fanboy."

"Bite me."

"Later, you're driving."

"As if you wouldn't have the same reaction if you got to talk to like, Johnny Depp, though."

"Hey, I'm not saying there's anything wrong with being a fanboy. You just might want to reign it in so you don't scare him off. I don't think Johnny Depp would take kindly to me dropping my pants the moment I saw him."

"Fair enough. I'll try not to scare him away and my pants will stay firmly on."

"Good to know."

x

Ella's leaving for uni in two months, and they still haven't talked about what they're going to do about that. London isn't that far from Reading, but Dan anticipates a significant clashing of schedules. They should probably talk about it soon, but given how much Ella's avoided the subject, Dan doesn't want to be the one to break the silence - although that seems imminent at this point.

There's now a pile of supplies for her future uni hall in Ella's dining room, and she shrugs when Dan points out how large it's gotten.

"Mum insists I'll need a whisk and two mixing bowls and a bunch of other stuff that I'm never going to use. I've just been going along with it."

"Yeah."

That's the extent of the conversation, as they've retreated to Ella's bedroom to take advantage of her family being at work. At least, that was the plan, but Ella doesn't seem to be having it; Dan initiates every kiss and she's not pressed up against him fully like she usually is, and it's all very unnerving.

"Okay, what's the matter?" He doesn't mean for it to come out as accusatory or all-encompassing of his recent frustrations, but it clearly does.

"What?"

"For starters, you don't seem into this," he says, gesturing vaguely between them. She sighs, hoisting one leg over his lap and off of him. She repositions, sitting cross-legged, facing Dan but not touching him. "We don't have to -" Dan continues, trying to reassure her.

"I know, I know," Ella interjects, waving her hand dismissively. "I'm sorry, I'm just distracted. All this uni preparation has got me thinking about what's going to happen with us when I go and - I just - I'm," she forces herself to stop and take a deep breath, her eyes glassy.

Dan's heart is beating out of his chest, and he has an awful sense of foreboding that she's not about to tell him that everything's gonna be fine and that they'll work through it. A moment before she starts speaking again, he wishes he could pause it and freeze time, because the stone in the pit of his stomach tells him everything's about to be turned on its head, and he's not ready.

"I don't want to be in a long distance relationship,” she says, plain and simple, and Dan’s thoughts race forward, so he just goes with it.

"Okay," Dan says, fighting the lump in his throat. He scoots away from the headboard, squaring off with her and mirroring her position. "I could find a place in London, maybe get some flatmates and look for a better job..."

"I can't ask you to do that with your year off,” she says, her voice tight.

"You're not asking. But I'm willing to do it.” Dan crouches a little, searching, as she won’t meet his gaze. She stares at a spot on the duvet between their calves, twisting a hair-tie around her wrist.

"Dan, we both know you can't afford to live in London. I barely can with my parents paying for it. It just shouldn't be something you have to worry about on your year off. That's about you doing stuff you want to do. And I shouldn't have to worry about you when I'm in my first year of uni. It just - it seems like a lot of unnecessary stress."

"So what's your solution, then?" he asks, and he doesn't want to know the answer. Everything's fine.

"I think we should. I think. It might be a good idea if we just. Took a break," she says, still staring down at the duvet.

Dan's stomach sinks to the floor, and he searches for some kind of indication that she's not serious, that this is some kind of test, that she doesn't actually want to break it off; she only glances at him for the first time this whole conversation, tears running down her cheeks as she continues.

"We could have some time to figure ourselves out and really know what we want and not have to worry about a long distance relationship. It's not fair to either of us to commit to each other too heavily right now," she says, her voice shaky but determined to continue, as though she's got a script to get through. She probably does. She's probably been planning this conversation for weeks. That’s the only explanation for how lifeless her voice is, the way she won’t hold eye contact. It’s so unlike her, Dan wants to grab her by the shoulders and shake her ‘till she stops talking nonsense or tells him she’s not serious. But she doesn’t - she only waits.

How the fuck she thought Dan would react is absolutely beyond him.

"No," he replies, quiet at first, but then he clears his throat. "I thought we _were_ committed to each other. And, yeah, it'll be hard, but I'm willing to work at it. I'm sure about you _right now_. Isn't that enough?"

"Dan," she says, and he absolutely hates her for it, because his name has always sounded the best in her voice and he hates hearing it all broken and pleading. "I'm sorry. I'm so so so sorry. I've just. I've given this a lot of thought and I think it's what's best."

"And you never thought to talk to me about it? Instead you just spring this on me a few weeks before you leave and I'm -" he can't fight it anymore, he's crying. He feels absolutely fucking gutted and to make matters worse, his face is now leaking from the eyes and nose. Crying is the worst thing ever invented, he decides. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

"I don't know," she says, and she breaks down too, covering her face in her hands. He wants to comfort her, wants to tell her that she's fucking wrong.

"El, it doesn't have to be like this, okay? We can work it out. I don't understand why we'd do something that makes us both like this."

His eyes follow her across the room when she gets up to retrieve tissues from her dresser. She offers him the box and sits at the edge of the bed, blowing her nose and remaining silent while he does the same.

"I just don't see it being good long term. I've thought about this for a long time, okay?" She still won't look at him properly, and he wants to scream at her to at least have the decency to look him in the face when she's ripping him apart from the inside out.

"I want uni to be a fresh start for me. That's what I've always wanted it to be. Ever since I was a child I wanted to reinvent myself and start a career when I started uni. And I think some time apart could be good for both of us. That way if we spend some time doing our own thing, we can know for sure if we are meant to be together."

"I don't fucking understand you," he retorts, unable to contain his confusion and anger any longer. He was willing to hear her out, but this isn't anything like what he expected. Either she wants him or she doesn't. Signs point to the fact that she doesn't.

"Right," she says, sounding exasperated. "I knew you wouldn't get it."

"I think I do get it," he says, his voice and the rest of him shaking. "You're not asking me to give you space. You're telling me you've made your mind up about us. I'm not worth the effort to you and you don't see a future so you're done. I get it."

"You're putting words in my mouth!" she says, finally looking up and holding eye contact. "I didn't say you're not worth the effort, okay? Don't you dare think that."

"Too late. What the fuck am I supposed to hear when you say that after three years of being happy together, you want a fresh start? That you're not sure about us when our parents are already picking out the wedding flowers? That all the stuff you've told me about being the happiest you've ever been when you're with me and that you love me and all of that shit - are those just words to you?" All the moments she can't possibly have forgotten replay in Dan's head as he stares her down, imploring and vulnerable and totally defenseless against anything she could say next.

He feels the floor break away underneath him, the tarnishing of all the memories of his first love and the person who made him feel alive and wanted, when she replies, "I guess so."

"Me too, then," he says, unable to keep from gasping for air because he's sobbing so hard. So is Ella - her head in her hands again, her chest heaving. And he cares. He cares about her pain and he wishes he could fix it. But she brought this on herself, on both of them, and she deserves to cry for it. So he lets her.

He gets up on unsteady legs and wipes his eyes. He wants to make some kind of dramatic exit to let her know how bad he's hurting, but he can't do it. He doubts his ability to keep it together while he drives home, much less while making some kind of lash at her. Especially because, out of habit, he wants to tell her he loves her before he leaves.

"Dan," she says weakly when he's made it to the doorway of her bedroom. He pauses. "I'm so sorry. I know I've ruined everything. If you ever did want me again," she sniffs, hard, "I'd be the luckiest girl in the world."

He still wants her, even now, but apparently that doesn't matter to her. "I'm sorry too." He turns around, back against the doorframe, and she stares at him, bleak and hurting. “I’m sorry I can’t just flip a switch and stop loving you. I fucking love you, Ella, okay? I just want to know when you stopped caring about that.”

That hurt and he knows it, because she swallows and sets her jaw. “I do care, okay?” she answers, her voice smaller than ever. “I love you - I just. I’ve fucked it up now. I didn’t want it to end this way.”

Dan thinks that he didn’t want it to end at all - that the best thing in his life, the only thing he could count on in the impending year where he has no idea what he’s doing, has been pulled out from underneath him. And it’s not fucking fair.

“I wish there was a way for me to explain it better,” she pleads. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Dan - that’s the last thing I wanted. I just wanted to look out for us - for myself.”

“You’ve failed, then,” he says, sniffing and wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “I just wanted you.”

Now would be a good time to make his dramatic exit, but he still can’t do it. He feels like if he leaves this room, he’ll never come back - not really.

The silence is thick and melancholy in the worst way; not like after you see a sad movie and you sit there, not saying anything because the full effect is still sinking in. This doesn’t need to sink any further.

“So this is it, huh?” she says, looking at Dan, and he can’t help but think that it is and it’s her fault, but if nothing’s going to be the same again, he can’t spend this moment being angry.

“Guess so.”

She gets up, crosses the room, and hugs him tightly, and he never wants to fucking let go. Their last kiss is weird and not fun, as he can’t breathe through his nose at all. He winds his arms around her, closing his eyes and hoping she won’t say anything else and make it worse.

“Dan, I just want you to know that I - I had the best time with you. I wish we had had better timing.” No such luck.

“Me too, El. I’ll miss you.”

She insists on walking him out to his car, three steps ahead and her head bowed. He gives her a little nod and salute out the window when he’s backed out into the street and ready to drive off.  

Dan puts the car in forward, and he feels the regret boil in his stomach as he glances in the rearview mirror and sees her shape growing smaller as he drives, the image searing itself into his memory.

He manages to keep it together til he gets home, swearing and crying basically the moment he gets in, praying his mum’s too preoccupied to care. Luck isn’t on his side today, and she rushes from the kitchen and takes him into her arms the moment she sees his face.

“Shhh, what’s happened, Bear? What’s wrong?”

His mum’s a lot shorter than him now, and he’s basically just draped over her shoulder like an overgrown baby, with her rubbing his back and rocking him back and forth while he blubbers, out of breath and so, so tired of crying.

“Ella dumped me.”

Mum holds him for a while longer and lets him cry it out, but he doesn’t want to talk about it with her. She promises to let him be for a while, and Dan trudges up the stairs and closes his bedroom door behind him.

He's only ever spoken to Phil on the phone once, but he thinks now is as good a time as any to do it again.

x

Phil’s probably the most understanding person Dan talks to about the breakup - maybe because he’s the only person Dan tells the whole truth to.

“Yeah, it was mutual,” he lies to his co-workers when they ask why he looks so sad. _It was mostly a uni thing,_ he tells friends who text him after seeing his relationship status change on Facebook. “I’m fine,” he reassures his mum and dad, who won’t stop looking at him like he’s a puppy that’s been in the pound for weeks and that no one wants to adopt.

He doesn’t know why he feels so safe with Phil, even though he’s only there in pixelated, grainy screen form.

“How’re you holding up?” Phil asks, and the audio lags behind the picture. Dan sighs.

“Alright. I keep finding pieces of her everywhere,” he says, gesturing around his room. “Stuff that’s been there so long I didn’t even know it had something to do with her. She sent me postcards from Germany two years ago and they were basically part of my wall. Took me a week to remember why I kept looking at them.”

Phil just nods sympathetically, and maybe that’s why Dan likes talking to him best about it. He doesn’t keep saying he’s sorry with pity in his voice, doesn’t press the issue, doesn’t offer unwarranted advice. He just listens.

“I’ll get rid of it all eventually,” Dan decides, glancing at the pile on the floor. He’s wondered if maybe he should give it back to Ella, but if he’s honest, he can’t part with it just yet.

“You don’t have to do it right away,” Phil reassures him, and Dan nods. “My housemate kept a bunch of stuff from her ex in a box for a while and by the time we moved out, she was ready to get rid of it.”

“Sounds good,” he says, but it just comes out really lifeless. “I’m sorry I’ve been no fun to talk to forever. I promise I think about things besides Ella sometimes.”

“It’s okay,” Phil says, and Dan sees an aborted movement in which Phil reaches towards the screen, but his hand drops to his lap. “Really, I’m here whenever you need me.”

“Thanks, Phil,” Dan says, and that’s the most emotion he’s heard in his own voice in days. He doesn’t quite get why Phil is so willing to listen to him mope about his ex girlfriend, or why he found Dan interesting enough to befriend in the first place, but Dan’s not arguing with it. Phil’s friendship isn’t something he wants to pick apart and analyse; he just wants to enjoy it and be a good friend in return.

“Yeah,” Phil says, resting his head on his hand and smiling. Dan grins back automatically, and finds himself fidgeting and looking for a new topic when the silence has gone on too long. It’s not awkward, but he still feels the need to fill it sometimes.

“Have you ever, um - been through anything like this?” Phil’s not the most free with personal information, and Dan feels a bit weird about asking, but it seems relevant enough.

“Nope. Never had anything that lasted more than, like, a month or two.”

“Yeah,” Dan says, and he would have left it alone if Phil didn’t continue.

“I’ve never really had a serious relationship before. Or had any like - real feelings for anyone. Nothing more than a crush or -” he pauses.

“Or what?”

“Um. I was a bit - promiscuous in uni, you could say.”

“Really?” Dan says, and he doesn’t mean for it to come out as disbelieving as it is. Phil’s one of the most flirtatious people Dan’s ever met, and he’s certainly attractive enough, but he just can’t see him picking people up in clubs or bars.

“Yeah,” Phil says, rubbing the back of his neck and looking adorably embarrassed.

“I’m not judging, I’m just, I dunno - surprised?”

Phil shrugs. “I think I’ve sort of gone through phases. I dated girls for a while at the end of school and first year of uni, but then I got with guys a lot more. It was never anything serious, though.”

Dan nods, peeking at his own image in the corner to make sure his face is staying neutral. He’ll never understand the whole ‘got with’ or ‘hookup’ concept; it has no actual definition. Did they make out? Did they do anal? Dan’s clearly been in relationships too long.

_Fuck it,_ he decides. He’s feeling brave. And if Phil doesn’t want to answer, he won’t.

“What d’you mean?”

“I - um. Well, I’ve gone on dates with and had some horrible kisses with girls. But I had a friend - a guy - who kind of seduced me? I wanted it too, but yeah, it was different than anything I’d ever done. It was a good stress reliever so I found some other guys I found attractive - usually friends of friends - and yeah. It was cool and it worked for me at the time.”

Dan nods, knowing it’d be way over the line to ask for more detail, although he’s insatiably curious. “That sounds kinda fun,” Dan says, but he wouldn’t really do it himself. He can’t picture himself having sex or even making out with someone he didn’t care about. That’s just not him.

“If I’m honest, being in a long relationship sounds like more fun to me,” Phil says softly, and the corners of Dan’s mouth quirk up.

“Yeah, it’s not so bad.”

“What’s that like?” Phil asks, shifting his position so he’s laying down with the laptop resting against his thighs. It should be an unflattering angle, but it’s not. Phil also holds eye contact with the camera and not the screen a lot; the downside of skyping a YouTuber, Dan decides.

“Long relationships?”

“Yeah, you know. Being in love,” he says, and his voice wavers a little.

Dan sits up a little straighter and tilts the screen back to compensate.

“Um, you know when you see your food coming in a restaurant?”

“Dan,” Phil chastises, but he’s laughing. Dan giggles too, but he presses on.

“No, I’m serious! It’s like that, but, like, continuously. It’s like,” he pauses, trying to think of the right way to word it. It hurts to think about it, he won’t lie, since he has to think about Ella to do it. But he wants to do this right. “When you’ve settled into bed and found _just_ the right sleeping position and you’re nice and warm and comfortable.”

Phil smiles, and Dan pauses for a second to smile back.

“Feeling really committed to someone feels like that. You feel safe around them.”

“Yeah,” Phil says, and Dan feels like he’s on the edge of something profound, so he keeps going.

“Sometimes it feels like - like all the stars aligned just for you and this person to take on the world together, and everything’s not so bad. It’s kind of dramatic,” he shrugs, realising how pretentious this all sounds. “But it settles down after a while.”

“Yeah,” Phil repeats. “Sounds interesting. And kind of complicated,” he says, and Dan knows he’s teasing him, if only a little.

“Love isn’t really that complicated. It feels like it is when you’re on your way there. Or on your way out.” He swallows, blinking back tears and rolling his eyes at just how quickly he’s able to start crying these days. “But really, it feels simple and right once you’re there. It’s nice.”

Phil smiles again, and Dan wishes he could know what that smile looks like behind all the wonky internet connections and pixelated images.

“It sounds nice.”

x

_Can I ask u something personal? :x_

Dan texts Phil while walking to his car. He probably shouldn't start this conversation when he's got a twenty minute drive home, but it's been bugging him for days and he spent most of his work shift thinking about how to phrase it.

_Sure :]_

Phil’s answered by the time Dan's settled in the driver seat. He types out his reply a few times and hits send before he loses his nerve.

_Um, u dont have to answer if u dont want. But I was wondering what u think ur sexuality is? Sorry >.<_

Dan starts his car and figures that Phil will answer by the time he gets home, so he shoves his phone into his pocket to remove the temptation to check it on the way.

He hasn't answered by the time Dan gets home, and Dan's stomach twists. Phil doesn't think he's terribly nosy, does he?

He doesn't have time to wonder, as his dad’s leaning against the counter with a mug of tea in each hand, and Dan barely has time to shrug out of his work vest before Dad’s offering one to him.

Dan had thought he was in the clear when it came to well-meaning parental intervention about his breakup; it’s been a few weeks and his mum already gave him the _I’m here for you and don’t worry - you’ll find another girl someday!_ speech. But alas.

“Thanks,” he says, toeing off his shoes and sitting at the breakfast bar. He can tell where the conversation’s bound to go, ‘cause Dad’s usually a pretty talkative, cut-to-the-chase kind of person - much like Dan - but now he’s quiet. The tea means he’s contemplating bringing up a sensitive subject; Dan’s come to hate the way his dad fixes tea, as it tastes like bad news.

He takes a sip and waits, and Dad takes his glasses off and cleans them before he speaks.

“How’s everything?”

“Fine,” Dan says. “Work sucks, but I get paid tomorrow.”

“That’s the mantra, isn’t it?” Dad replies, leaning against the other side of the breakfast bar, across from Dan.

“Yeah.” Dan’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and he knows it’s Phil. “Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?”

“The tea gave it away, didn’t it?” Dad laughs, and the corners of Dan’s mouth quirk up but he doesn’t smile. Dan pushes the mug away with his knuckles, and Dad frowns. “I just wanted to see how you were doing in light of - you know - your breakup?”

“I’m fine. Don’t really want to talk about it. It sucks, but I imagine that eventually, it will suck less.”

Dad nods. “I knew you’d be okay. But I just wanted to let you know that if you do ever want to talk about it, you can talk to me.”

Dan would rather drink nothing but Uncomfortable Discussion Tea forever than talk to his dad about his romantic troubles, but he appreciates the offer. It’s not like his parents are outright nosy or judgmental; but given the way they gossip about everyone else in Dan’s family, he doesn’t want to give the ammunition. A need-to-know basis seems the best approach to keep his parents at arms-length, which is how he likes it, despite his guilt about it.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“That’s okay.”

His phone buzzes again. He doesn't want to continue that particular conversation with his dad in the room, especially if he's upset Phil. Dad eyes him curiously.

"Who's that?" he asks when Dan's phone vibrates again. Phil must be sending a long reply.

"Uh, my friend Phil, I think."

"Phil?" Dad repeats, his eyes rolling to the ceiling, apparently trying to recall if he had heard that name before.

"Yeah. I think I told you about him a few times? He lives in Manchester."

"Oh, the one you're always on Skype with?"

"Yeah."

"How's he doing, then?"

"Good."

"That's good," he says, and he's clearly still fishing for something. Dan hopes he finds it soon because not knowing what Phil said is making him squirm and fidget. "Have you been talking to him about how you're feeling?"

"I'm _fine_ ," Dan replies, exasperated, even though it's a stupid and obvious lie. Dad looks wounded, so Dan sighs and takes another sip of the tea. "I'm sorry - I do appreciate the concern, okay? I have been talking to Phil about it. I put all of Ella's stuff away and I do feel better. I just want to like. Not think about it every second of every day."

"Fair enough," Dad says, putting down his tea and raising his hands in mock surrender. "I'm glad you have someone to talk to about it. Offer still stands if you want it to be me."

"Thanks, Dad. Really. I just need some time and I'll be alright. I'd appreciate if you and mum didn't bring it up, is all."

Dad mimes zipping his lips closed and Dan smiles. He stands up and gives his dad a quick hug, trying to squeeze everything he can't articulate properly into it before he retreats upstairs to finally check his messages.

He knows that he's lucky to have parents who care enough to bug him about his problems. He knows they're only trying to help. But he means it when he says he doesn't want to talk about it, because Ella takes up most of his thoughts and he hates it, especially when he's got Phil.

Phil's an odd one - probably the strangest person Dan's ever known - but he's just fundamentally _good._ He's kind and gentle and a good listener and, if Dan's honest, everything he needs right now. But he doesn't understand the way he gets incredibly excited when he sees Phil calling him on skype, or why he always hopes it's Phil texting him even when he's in the middle of a conversation with another friend, or why that's all led up to him asking Phil invasive questions. He just has a gut feeling that he should let it happen.

_Umm I dont really like to label myself as anything? O~o its kind of confusing for me cos I seem to have a preference for boys but I do find girls attractive sometimes soooo idk. I know theres stuff like bi and pan thats not straight or gay but idkkk lol_

A separate message reads: _And its ok that u asked omg I dont mind! U can ask me anything <3_

Dan replies with a few hearts while he thinks, and decides to crack open his laptop. He's heard those terms before, of course - usually used loosely and if he's honest, he's not sure they're completely legitimate.

_Yea yea I get that >.< thx for telling me <33_

The conversation shifts to Phil telling Dan about his day while Dan does some research. Turns out that "bisexual" means "attraction to people of two or more genders" - which throws him for a loop. Dan has to take a detour for some searching about gender, because he knew that some people are transgender but didn't think that classified more than two genders? _Gender and sexuality_ , he learns, _exist on a spectrum rather than a binary, and people identify along any and all points of the spectrum. There's much more than gay or straight or man or woman, and the LGBTQ+ community is inclusive to all people who identify along the queer spectra..._

Fuck, this looks complicated. He probably shouldn’t have picked the fifteenth link on google. The fact that he ventured onto page two of the results indicates a level of desperation he’s not sure he wants to come to terms with.

He doesn't understand the different between bi and pansexuality, and a bunch of websites list prefixes that you can stick in front of ‘sexual’ (and ‘romantic’ too - but that shit’s too much for one day) that he's never even heard of. Surely they don't matter in the grand scheme of things - everyone settles down with someone, don't they? Eventually you have to choose, right?

Dan sighs, because this is all totally useless. He's been with girls and has never had the desire to have sex with any boy he's ever met. That makes him straight. He's got no right infiltrating this space, even if he supports their causes for equal marriage and adoption rights and stuff. He's straight, and this is all fucking stupid.

He closes the browser and, upon second thought, reopens it to clear his history - including the gay porn he got off to two mornings ago.

_Whatever_ , he sighs. _Everything's hot when you're already hard._

x

“What kinds of videos do you want to make?” Phil asks, leaning on his hand and smiling with genuine interest that even Dan’s shitty laptop can’t obscure. Dan hesitates.

“Uh - I dunno. I’m kind of a rambly person, so I guess maybe vlogs like you? But I have ideas for things that are more like sketches, with vloggy bits in between. Whatever’s needed to tell the story or get the idea across, I guess.”

Phil nods. “Yeah, that’s the right idea. Now you’ve just got to do it.”

“Oh, is that all?” Dan says, adjusting his pillow and propping his head up a bit more. He’s exhausted from work and they’ve been skyping for - he mouses over the screen - four hours and six minutes. But he doesn’t want to go to sleep yet. Phil’s lying down too, and upon seeing Dan playing with his pillow, grabs one of his own.

“That’s the hardest part,” Phil says, yawning. “But I know you’ll get it. You’ve got the ideas and the passion. You just have to go for it.”

“My laptop webcam’s so shit though. I mean, I don’t need to tell _you_ that. How many pixels am I made of right now?”

“Probably eight.”

“Brilliant,” he sighs, and Phil laughs softly.

“That’s more to do with the internet connection, I think. And if you turn all the lights on or film during the day, that’ll help the quality.”

“Yeah,” he replies, burying his face in the pillow to yawn. “Don’t take my yawning as an indication of how I feel about your advice.”

“Yeah,” Phil says, and he yawns too, but looks determined to stay awake.

“Maybe we should sleep,” Dan says, closing his eyes for a moment.

At least, it feels like a moment, but when he’s distracted by what sounds like someone in the kitchen, he wiggles around and opens his eyes lazily.

Phil’s fast asleep, curled around his pillow with his face just in view of the camera. Dan glances at the timer, which now reads five hours and forty-three minutes. The _fuck._ He sits up and rubs his eyes.

The noises from the kitchen indicate that Mum’s getting ready for work and it takes him a minute to gather his wits and piece together the fact that he fell asleep for almost two hours. And Phil’s still there.

He was still awake when Dan fell asleep, so he must have seen it happen. But he didn’t hang up - just settled in and fell asleep too.

Dan’s chest feels warm, and he lays back down in front of the computer.

It feels more intimate than sleeping in the same bed as Ella ever did, somehow. They usually didn’t get enough privacy or time to properly sleep together for a full night. When they spent the night at each other’s houses, their parents insisted they sleep in separate beds. They shared a sleeper sofa once after a friend’s party, but someone else was asleep on the on the other couch, so that hardly counted. Dan had always liked sharing beds with friends at sleepovers or in hotel rooms.

But, for some reason, this feels different. Even with his mum running the obnoxiously loud coffeemaker downstairs and hours worth of train rides between them, it feels like they’re alone. Talking to Phil makes him feel like he’s in this whole separate space - call it cyberspace or whatever - where he feels safe and understood. Where they’ve formed a strong bond without ever meeting in real life or seeing each other in proper clarity. Phil’s asleep hundreds of miles away from him, but for the first time, Dan truly misses him.

Dan mutes his side of the call just in case his mum realises he’s awake and comes to chastise him for staying up all night. He curls up in front of the screen and falls back asleep.

Much to his dismay, though, his dad decides today is the best day to wake him up at a functional hour and make Dan call his lawyer friend about doing work study with her.

Phil’s still asleep, so Dan scribbles a note onto a piece of paper (while realising that he could just type it into the chat, but whatever) and props it up so that his stuffed bear is holding it in view of the webcam.

_good morning :D had to go make a grown up phone call ew_

_also i want to meet you but we can talk about that later_

_x Dan_

Two hours later, Dan chances a glance at his phone in the middle of a Serious Business conversation with his dad about his future.

_I want to meet u too :] hope the phone call went ok o.O_

x

Dan expects to feel disappointed when he comes home after visiting Phil for the first time, but he isn’t. With some of the most fun he’s had in his life in his back pocket, and seeing Phil again in a week and a half on the horizon, he’s downright chipper.

It’s no surprise that his parents take notice. The way they glance at each other when Dan actually participates in dinner table conversation and their painfully obvious but never blunt prodding about the nature of his relationship with Phil gives the whole game away, but Dan decides to play along. There’s really nothing to hide or be secretive of, so why not tell them a bit about the films they watched or places in Manchester they visited?

He makes an executive decision to omit the fact that Phil’s family wasn’t around. It’s hardly relevant, anyway.

x

Dan stretches his legs out when him and Phil sit at the edge of the fountain, prompting Phil to do the same and knock their toes together while they unwrap their sandwiches. The girl at the shop closed the paper with a jack-o-lantern sticker, which made Phil smile.

“Hi,” Dan says, his eyes on their feet and his voice muffled by a mouthful of sandwich. He’s a solid four out of ten on the drunk scale, and now that they’re alone, the tipsiness gives everything a nice hum.

“Hi,” Phil replies, covering his mouth and swallowing the (evidently huge) bite he just took. “Oh my god, I was _so_ hungry.”

“Me too,” Dan says. “Is that the secret to being a YouTuber? Just never eat and get really drunk on Halloween?”

“If it is, then I’ve been doing it wrong,” Phil replies. “Who brings a tonne of mulled wine but no food to a gathering?”

“Dunno. But I do appreciate the wine,” he says, hooking his foot over Phil’s ankle. He blames the tipsiness for it, but really, he just likes being playfully touchy with Phil. It’s fun, and Phil always plays along.

“I would - do it back to you -” Phil says slowly, chewing and squinting in apparent concentration at their feet. He points to his foot and motions over to Dan’s. “But I don’t think it’s - a good idea - as I’d probably just fall off the seat.”

“Good thinking,” Dan says, laughing, but he doesn’t move his foot away. The slow speech is the only indication that Phil’s every bit as drunk as Dan. By Dan’s judgment, he’s always clumsy enough to stumble around and need Dan’s hand on his waist to lead him in the right direction to the sandwich shop.

They finish eating in comfortable silence, but eventually Dan has to retract his legs to stand up and throw away their rubbish. He glances at where everyone else is - a still-crowded square not a hundred feet away - and has no desire to join them. He sits back down next to Phil, who smiles at him and pays the suddenly extremely loud crowd no mind.

Dan enjoyed meeting other YouTubers - wording he can justify now that he’s got three public videos to his name - and being introduced to Phil’s friends. But nothing really beats being with Phil. As though boarding his train of thought, Phil speaks up, his eyes on the sky.

“Wanna stay over here til I have to leave? I don’t really care about the gathering anymore.”

“Yeah,” Dan says, following his gaze. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“I don’t want to leave,” Phil pouts at Dan and Dan wants to push the corners of Phil’s mouth back up.

“What if you came back to mine? It’s late. You can stay the night.” It seems like a great idea, until the sober bits of Dan’s mind remind him that he didn’t ask his parents if that was okay, and that he’s only delaying the inevitable.

“Yeah,” Phil agrees, pushing all doubts from Dan’s mind. “I have to tell my mum, though. She’s expecting me back in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Dan says, and he’s too happy to care that his parents are gonna kill him.

x

They’re a bit tipsy at best when they get to Dan’s, but that doesn’t stop them from giggling and shushing each other as though they’re children about to commit a hilarious practical joke.

“Okay, shhh, my family’s asleep,” Dan tells Phil while he fumbles with his keys. Phil rests his chin on Dan’s shoulder and watches, whispering utter bullshit.

“Don’t miss the keyhole. Don’t use the wrong key. Is that the wrong key? Dan, why are you using the wrong key?” Dan can hear the shit-eating grin on his face, so he pushes Phil’s head away and laughs when he nearly falls into the bushes.

“C’mon, we have to be quiet,” Dan says, dragging Phil by the hand into the dark house and locking the door behind them.

He takes long, careful strides in front of his parents’ door, and judging by the lack of floor creaking, Phil follows suit adequately. They pad up the stairs, and they’re nearly home free when Phil trips up the last step, and swears under his breath when Dan is nearly dragged down with him.

“You okay?” Dan whispers.

“Yeah,” he says, and Dan glares at Adrian’s door for a few moments. As expected, his brother pokes his head out moments later, a stuffed bear hanging from his hand.

“Dan?” he says, and Dan can’t see his face in the dark, but he’s probably not happy.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine, go back to sleep,” he says softly.

Phil hoists himself to his feet, and Adrian shrinks behind his door a bit more, bear clutched to his chest. “Who’s that?”

“This is my friend Phil. We went to a gathering and now we’re going to sleep. See you in the morning.”

“Okay. G’night.” Adrian closes the door and Dan sighs.

“He’s gonna tell Mum and Dad you’re here,” he says when he closes his bedroom door behind them.

“Are you gonna get in trouble?” Phil asks, plucking the cat ears from his head.

“Maybe,” Dan shrugs, and it goes without saying that he doesn’t care. He flops onto his bed to reach the switch for his fairy lights so they’re not in complete darkness.

Phil shrugs out of his jacket, dropping it to the floor with the ears. Dan expects him to stop at jean removal, but Phil strips down to his boxers and asks Dan to point him to the bathroom so he can attempt to remove the sharpie from his face. It’s only then does Dan realise that he’s been laying on his bed watching Phil undress.

Dan rolls over and sits up, tossing away bits of his costume until he’s down to boxers too. Undressing is mechanical. Nothing weird about watching someone do it.

Phil’s got a nice body shape, though, if Dan were to give it any thought. Broad shoulders and narrow hips and long legs and all that. It’s aesthetically pleasing. Nothing weird.

Dan takes his turn in the bathroom when Phil’s done. During his fifth minute of sharpie removal, it occurs to him that he should offer Phil a toothbrush or some fresh clothes or something, but by the time Dan’s locked his bedroom door behind him, Phil’s already tucked up under the covers on the left side of the bed.

Dan joins him and clicks the fairy lights off, turning over to face the middle, where he can just make out Phil’s face as his eyes readjust to the darkness. Yeah, it’s worth it for Phil to stay.

“Dan?”

“Hm?”

“I’m glad we get another night.”

“Me too.”

“Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me a secret about you.”

Dan smirks, because they’re apparently going there with the sleepover talk. Does it even count if they’re still making eye contact?

“I dunno. You know most things there are to know about me.”

“You stole mine,” Phil says, apparently disappointed.

“What?”

“That was my secret. That you’re my best friend.”

Dan’s stomach does a funny little flip, and he grins at the fact that his initial reaction is that that’s really not a secret.

“You’re mine too. I’ve never had a best friend.”

“Well,” Phil says, scooting closer and hooking a foot around Dan’s ankle. “Now you do.”

Dan grins. “You still haven’t told me a new secret.”

“Hm,” Phil replies, closing his eyes. “I believe in aliens, but I’m not so sure they believe in us.”

“Shut up and go to sleep,” Dan laughs.

x

Dan stirs sometime around noon, Phil’s arm a reassuring weight on his. Phil’s still asleep, snoring softly and starfish-ing in Dan’s personal space. He doesn’t mind at all. He’s always liked sharing beds with friends, but this feels different somehow. Less ‘you can sleep in my bed so you don’t have to sleep on the floor’ and more ‘this is my space and you’re invited in’. It’s easy.

He’s never made a ‘walk of shame’ before, but it feels a bit like one when he descends the stairs at one in the afternoon, unshowered, with sharpie remnants on his cheeks.

Dad’s making lunch - typical Sunday fare of tuna sandwiches, judging by the smell - and Mum’s reading at the kitchen table. They don’t look up when Dan enters, which is great news for him. Maybe Adrian didn’t say anything.

“Morning,” Mum says, her tone indicating that she knows it’s not the morning.

“Afternoon,” Dan replies, peeking into the fridge for better prospects than tuna. No such luck.

“Got in late last night, eh?” Dad asks, his tone conversational to the point where Dan doesn’t know if he’s being tested or not. He decides to just fess up.

“Yeah. It was too late for Phil to go home, so he just stayed over. I would have asked if it was okay…” Dan trails off, his face hidden by the pantry door.

“That’s fine,” Mum says, and Dan still doesn’t know if they knew that or not or why parents insist on playing this very unamusing game. “Is he still here?”

“Yeah, he’s on the phone to his mum,” Dan says. He can only assume from the bits of conversation he picked up on his way downstairs from the bathroom. “I’ll introduce you when he comes down.”

Dan makes good on that promise, and his parents seem to soften when they actually meet Phil. But Dan can tell something’s up with everyone in the room. Not only were his parents suspiciously not-upset with Phil staying over, but Phil keeps glancing at the clock.

When they’re done eating, Phil plops onto Dan’s bed face-first.

“I forgot to tell my mum that I was staying here last night and my phone died. I used yours to call her and she was _livid._ ”

“Was she really?” Dan asks, and he feels awful for it.

“Well, she doesn’t really get _mad._ You know how parents get when they’re just. Upset. Disappointed, I guess?”

“Yeah,” Dan swallows, and he feels like that’s in his future as soon as Phil leaves. Which, judging by Phil getting up and gathering up his dirty shirt and cat ears - is right now. “I can drive you to the train station. I’m sorry for making you stay and upsetting your mum.”

“You didn’t make me stay,” Phil says.

Even though they walked it last night while tipsy, Phil doesn’t know the way to the station and his phone’s still dead, so he takes Dan up on the offer to drive him there.

The ride isn’t long enough, not only because Dan doesn’t want Phil to leave, but because he knows, somehow, that he’s got hell to pay when he gets home. Dan makes sure Phil’s got a ticket before they say goodbye.

Phil throws his arms around Dan’s neck and squeezes him tight, and Dan sets his hands on Phil’s waist.

“I’ll get your shirt back to you soon, yeah?” Phil says, and it’s definitely a question.

“Yeah. Text me when your phone’s alive.”

“Yeah.”

Dan decides goodbyes are probably the worst thing to ever happen.

Almost as bad as walking into his own house with the back of his neck prickling, ‘cause he feels like his parents aren’t going to let him off easy for -

“Dan?” Dad catches him as he walks past the kitchen, and Dan freezes. “Can you come in here, please?”

Dan sits at the kitchen table quietly, his head bowed, shameful and expectant.

“You’re not in trouble,” Dad says, and Dan looks up.

“Really? ‘Cause I am sorry about inviting Phil to stay without asking.”

Mum nods, as if to tell him that that’s enough, and he relaxes for a moment before he realises that there’s something else they might want to talk to him about.

“I came to check on you this morning to make sure you made it home okay, and your door was locked.”

Fuck.

“Um,” he starts, but Dad waves him off.

“We’re really not trying to put you in a corner here. We just want you to know that if there’s anything going on that we should maybe know about, we’re inviting you to tell us.”

Right, because he definitely doesn’t feel backed into a corner at all. Not by their leaned-forward posture or unrelenting eye contact or even the fucking clock on the wall that counts every second of Dan’s increasingly guilty silence.

“Phil’s my friend. He lives far away and I didn’t want him to leave. That’s all that’s going on.” Dan’s throat has gone impossibly dry, all of its moisture seemingly migrated to his palms. He wipes them on his jeans hastily.

“Okay,” Mum says. She’s got this annoying superpower of saying very little and making Dan’s brain fill in the blanks. _Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you locked your door or why you’re so nervous right now._

Dan gulps. He didn’t want his parents to know Phil was there without him telling them - simple enough explanation for the locked door. But he also didn’t want to be disturbed. That space where him and Phil are alone is comfortable. He doesn’t want it tainted or their time in it interrupted.

“Is it weird for me to want some privacy?” Dan says without thinking, and he knows the defensiveness is only digging him a deeper grave.

“No,” Dad answers. After a beat of silence, he resembles the Dad that Dan knows, who just comes right out with it. “Dan, if you are in a relationship with Phil, we wouldn’t be upset.”

Dan flushes, and his panicked brain wonders if his dad’s right for a split second. He remembers waking up next to Phil, holding his hand as they sneak through the house, staying glued to each other’s sides, not wanting to leave that place where they feel safe with each other. It reads a lot like what he had with Ella. But they’re not - Dan’s not like that.

“No,” Dan says, exasperated. “We’re not in a relationship, okay? I’m straight. There’s nothing else to tell or pry about.” Dan hates the way it comes out, the word ‘straight’ tasting wrong in his mouth. It’s a fact, but it feels wrong. Fucking hell.

His parents apologise for making him feel invaded, but it doesn’t help the sinking feeling in his stomach that won’t quite go away.

x

It’s starting to get cold in Manchester, and the heating in Phil’s house is “violently shitty”, as Dan put it.

“That’s a strong image,” Phil says, grinning and pulling the blanket that’s draped across the back of the couch over their legs. Dan’s sitting at the end of the sofa, his back to the armrest and curled against Phil way more than he is against the couch. For warmth, obviously.

His eyes drift back to the screen, where Kill Bill is playing but failing to capture their attention. The cold’s created an interesting game of Push the Boundaries in terms of physical contact; Phil’s literally laying on Dan’s chest, his feet on the floor while Dan’s bent knees are tucked onto his lap. Dan’s hands settle on Phil’s shoulders, rubbing small circles into his back with the pads of his thumbs.

It’s nice, comfortable, and damn efficient. Dan’s leaving tomorrow, and he figures that they need to be as close as possible, as much as possible, to make up for lost opportunities when he leaves. If Dan’s honest, he’s starved for cuddles since him and Ella broke up, and Phil’s one of the most physically-directed people Dan’s ever met. It works nicely, and Dan’s not interested in labeling it.

Phil shifts a little, pressing the side of his face more securely against Dan’s chest. The arm that isn’t wedged between Dan and the cushions sinks a little lower, to Dan’s hip, where his jumper has ridden up a little. Dan swallows when Phil runs his thumb over the protrusion of Dan’s hipbone. Somehow that feels way more intimate than just snuggling for warmth and getting comfy.

In an astounding feat of Best Friend Telepathy, Phil sits up, his hands retracting a little.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice quiet.

“Yeah,” Dan replies, an affirmation of the truth to both of them. “Yeah, it is,” he repeats, smiling a little and pulling Phil back to his chest.

Phil gives an appreciative hum, and Dan kisses the top of his head - quick and without thought.

“I like being close to you, Dan,” Phil murmurs, and Dan’s stomach gives a funny little twist.

_No labels no labels no labels,_ he squeezes his eyes shut and repeats to himself, willing his brain to stop thinking for two seconds and just let him be. It worked just long enough for Dan to kiss Phil’s head, but now that Phil’s thrown _that_ out there, the doubt has kicked into overdrive.

Maybe this is why Phil doesn’t apply labels to himself, and, in turn, why he hasn’t tried to label their relationship - and why Dan’s allowed that. He likes things to be clear and identifiable, and he doesn’t understand all of the acrobatics his innards are doing just because him and Phil are touching. It’s an intimacy he’s never experienced with anyone except Ella, and this feels different somehow.

Dan doesn’t know anything for sure except what he responds, his voice low. “Me too, Phil. Except like, with you.”

Phil sits up, an amused, closed-mouth smile curving his lips.

“I like being close to _you._ Not myself. I’m kind of - at one with myself. All the time.” He’s babbling and he knows it, but he doesn’t know what else to do with that look that Phil’s giving him - his eyes thoroughly focused on Dan, as though the incoherent mess spewing from his mouth is the most important and enrapturing thing in the world currently.

“Dan,” Phil says, leaning his forehead against Dan’s, hands planted firmly on his hips.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.” Even with their faces this close, Dan can tell Phil’s holding back a smile, ready to crack up underneath his stern facade. Dan won’t be the first one to break. No way in hell.

“Make me,” he dares, and the words have barely left his lips before he realises he’s just thrown a match into the gasoline puddle of sexual tension.

So be it, he decides, and closes his eyes just before Phil presses his lips to Dan’s, softly and hesitantly. It’s downright sweet compared to the heat between them, and Dan’s chest tightens, flips, and flutters simultaneously, his shaky hands finding purchase on the sides of Phil’s neck.

He’s kissing a boy. He’s kissing _Phil._ Phil is a boy and Dan is kissing him.

Oh god, he is so _fucked._

He pulls away, breathless and shaky, only their mouths disconnecting. That felt good. That felt right. He enjoyed it. He wants to do it again.

“Is this okay?” Phil asks.

He doesn’t know if it’s okay. He doesn’t know what this says about him, or their relationship, or anything, really. But to answer Phil’s question, the kissing is more than okay.

“Yes,” Dan answers, and he’s honestly embarrassed by how much his voice and his whole body are shaking with intense shivers, and he’s not actually cold. He’s just nervous and possibly questioning his whole understanding of himself and jeopardising the best thing in his life.

“We don’t have to do this.”

No, they don’t have to, but Dan feels like if he doesn’t grab this moment and run with it, he’s going to regret it. He wants to know what this is like. He wants to go to that space where it’s just the two of them, where he feels safe and important and wanted, and explore it further.

“I want to.”

He kisses Phil, mimicking his softness and tracing along Phil’s jaw with his fingertips. If there’s one thing he still knows for sure, it’s how to kiss. And dammit if he isn’t going to dig himself out of his own head and kiss Phil like he fucking means it.

And he does.

Dan’s heart is racing and he’s trying not to directly exhale onto Phil’s face, so breathing has taken a backseat to the urgency of their pace. The pull in Dan’s chest, his want to keep going, prevents him from slowing it down - it’s as though their mouths separating for more than a moment would break the spell.

Phil catches Dan’s bottom lip between his teeth for just a moment, long enough for Dan to catch his breath, before he angles his head to the other side and kisses him again. Dan adjusts accordingly, fingers sneaking into the hair at the back of Phil’s neck. Phil’s skin feels damp against the heels of Dan’s hands, which is reassuring, ‘cause if Phil’s sweating that means he’s having some kind of physical reaction too and that’s nice to know, because Dan’s already half-hard. And royally, completely _fucked._

Phil’s a boy - not just any boy but his _best friend_ \- and all Dan wants to do is touch him. He wants to keep kissing him, but he’s _straight._ Yeah, some people experiment when they’re in uni and are still straight, so it’s no big deal, right? He’s not technically in uni yet but he _could_ be, and fuck, Phil was one of those people who experimented too. It doesn’t matter. It definitely doesn’t matter right now, because Phil’s a great kisser and Dan needs to shut up and kiss him _._

Phil’s hand on Dan’s hip slips down his thigh and hooks behind Dan’s knees, giving a gentle pull. _Fuck,_ it feels so nice to be touched like that - and Dan silences his doubts by stretching his legs out and over Phil’s lap, making the blanket that was draped over their legs fall to the floor, as forgotten as the film that’s still running on the tv. There’s a moment of shuffling, Phil’s hand grabbing Dan’s bum to scoot him closer so Dan’s fully pressed to Phil’s side, and one of Dan’s hands slips around Phil’s waist.

Continuing to kiss the whole time feels necessary, so they do it, and Dan presses harder when they’ve stilled, holding the kiss for what seems like too long. Phil sighs, his breath soft and warm against Dan’s mouth, seemingly confirming that Dan’s just robbed him of air. Dan opens his eyes and is about to apologise, when Phil does it again, eyes still closed, only this time it comes out as _Dan,_ just before Phil seals their mouths together again.

_Fucking hell_ does his name sound nice like that.

Dan has to shift his hips a little to keep their position comfortable, sitting more into his left hip, which makes his thigh push into Phil’s crotch. Phil’s hard too, and for a moment, Dan’s mind races and he wants to straddle Phil and grinds against him - anything to make him say Dan’s name like that again. But he’s still nervous, like he’s forgotten how vulnerable it is to just curl up against another person and make out with them, hands wandering with an unsure, reverent energy.

Dan tugs the collar of Phil’s t-shirt, and he decides to chance stopping the kissing to graze his lips against Phil’s jaw. Phil stretches his neck to accommodate, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows when Dan exhales onto his skin.

“‘S this okay?” Dan asks, still until Phil answers.

“Yes,” Phil breathes. “Leave a mark if you want.”

_Sweet Jesus,_ that one goes right to his dick. He presses his lips to the skin just above Phil’s collarbone, nipping and kissing and sucking until it blooms purple and Phil’s put a hand under Dan’s jumper and is scratching against his lower back. He wants Phil to scratch harder; he loves the aesthetic of body markings, and, even more so, the pleasure of giving them.

Dan pulls away and adjusts so he’s properly sitting on Phil’s thighs, knees on either side of his hips. Phil’s comment about the hickey gave him a surge of confidence to push things a bit further - and complete the ideal picture by sucking symmetrical marks on either side of Phil’s collar.

Dan’s hands settle on Phil’s waist while Phil’s return to Dan’s hips, and their gazes lock. Phil gives Dan a small smile, his cheeks red and his gaze fond. Dan grins back, and his stomach drops at just how badly he realises he’s wanted this, and how fucking terrifying that is. Just how poorly does he know himself?

“‘M gonna give you a matching one on the other side,” he says, pushing the thought aside and instead focusing on just how intimate it feels to make eye contact and declare what he’s going to do next.

“For symmetry?” Phil offers, and yeah, Phil definitely knows him better than he knows himself.

“Naturally,” Dan replies, bemused. He leans down and presses quick kisses from Phil’s mouth to his neck. He fulfills his promise, and is rewarded with Phil’s hands roaming under his shirt, eventually crossing over at his back and essentially hugging him even closer. Dan scoots forward, rubbing their crotches together and making them both whimper.   

“Shit,” Dan mutters into the crook of Phil’s neck, ‘cause now that his cock has received the least bit of attention, he’s aching for more friction. Experimentally, he rocks his hips forward, and _shit,_ this is way more fun to do with a boy. It takes a few tries and Phil’s hands on his hips to find a good angle, and then he picks up a more steady rhythm.

Phil’s hips rise to meet Dan’s as much as they can, and it doesn’t seem to create any more contact, but the _urgency_ makes it so much better. When they start kissing again, messy and out of sync, it doesn’t even matter. Dan likes the way Phil has to stop to moan into his mouth, likes the way he tucks his face into the crook of Dan’s neck just to pull him even closer. The mutual desire is impossibly hot, and Dan can feel heat pooling low in his gut telling him that he’s getting close. He murmurs as much to Phil, who immediately cups Dan outside of his trackies, digging the heel of his hand into his cock with imperfect but quick timing.

“God, Phil,” Dan sighs, grabbing fistfuls of Phil’s shirt as he comes, shivers of pleasure shooting through him. Phil kisses along his jaw as Dan rides it out, eyes squeezed shut and chest heaving. He drops his head onto Phil’s shoulder, totally spent, before he remembers that Phil deserves an orgasm too.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, and Phil literally grabs his left hand and shoves it down his pants, obviously close to the edge too. Dan obliges, before he remembers that he’s never touched anyone’s dick but his own, and this might go poorly.

Thankfully, Phil wraps Dan’s hand around him carefully, his grip firm and directive. Still high and a bit dazed from finishing, Dan lets Phil take the lead rather than trying to take over himself. With Dan’s help, Phil works himself through his orgasm, a soft moan escaping his lips.

Dan sighs contently, ‘cause fuck if he didn’t miss sex more than anything. He can make himself come just fine, but nothing compares to hearing and feeling someone else respond to your touch.

He feels Phil wipe both of their hands on his shirt, and Dan drags himself off of Phil reluctantly, feeling sleepy but in need of a shower.

“‘M going to shower, you can go after me if you want?” Phil beats him to it, but Dan’s alright with that. He accepts Phil’s outstretched hand to help him up, and doesn’t protest when Phil leaves their hands linked as he leads the way upstairs.

Phil gives him a sleepy smile and disappears into the bathroom, and Dan retreats to the guest room. He fully intends on showering, but changing his boxers and trackies is such an enormous effort that he has to lay down while he waits, and he knows he’s a goner moments before he falls asleep.

x

Dan decides that staying in Phil’s guest room for the rest of time is probably the best of his current options. All of the other ones involve making eye contact with, talking to, or generally being around Phil; after what they did the previous night, Dan’s ready to escape to eternal solitude and cling to the remainder of his heterosexuality.

But that’s just it: he’s still heterosexual. Despite how attracted he was - is - to Phil (and, okay, some male celebrities and that one classmate from year ten), he still likes girls. The thought that those things could coexist doesn’t sit right in his head. Okay, people can be attracted to different genders at the same time. He knows that to be a fact of human existence. But can _he?_

Is his attraction real if he’s never had a desire for a relationship with a boy? Is he just lying to himself in some kind of desperate, elaborate ruse to fuck with Phil and push him away? Maybe it’s a defense mechanism against how close they’ve gotten in such a short span of time. Maybe he’s _just_ fucked up enough to latch onto the first person to show him anything that resembles love since Ella dumped him.

Phil can’t possibly be as fucked about this as Dan is; he said he’s hooked up with friends before. Fun and stress relief, that’s all. He can at least come to terms with the fact that he’s attracted to boys, while Dan is sitting there with his head in his hands, wasting the few hours they’ve got left before he leaves again.

He’s got to face him eventually.

Dan pads down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Phil’s sat with his usual coffee and cereal. He grins at Dan when he sees him enter.

“Morning,” he says, glancing up at Dan over his glasses. “Sleep okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” Dan replies, busying himself with the instant coffee packet that Phil left out for him.

“That’s good.”

It’s silent except for the spoon clinking against the sides of Dan’s mug as he stirs.

Dan’s stomach drops when he thinks about how Phil’s gonna disrupt the quiet, ‘cause it sure as fuck isn’t gonna be him. What would he even say if he did? He’s too confused to even begin to break this down, so he’d rather leave alone. So they messed around for a bit. It doesn’t need to be any more complicated than that.

Dan sits across from Phil, eyes trailing the movements of his mug and spoon and basically anything but Phil, who’s definitely looking at him.

“Do we need to talk about, um.” Phil hesitates when Dan finally looks up.

“No,” he says, too quickly.

“Dan,” Phil begins, his tone gentle. But Dan’s not having it.

“Not right now, okay?” he snaps, and immediately drops his gaze, ashamed. Phil doesn’t deserve that shit. Doesn’t matter how fucked Dan’s head is. “Sorry. I just. I can’t talk about it now.”

“Okay,” Phil says, softer than ever.

Dan fucking hates this, ‘cause it’s not Phil’s fault that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Phil’s probably confused too, and it would do them well to reestablish the boundaries of their relationship in light of how much they overstepped them. Dan knows that’s the logical, mature option. But his throat feels like sandpaper, and the fear of what Phil might say bubbles low in his gut. Dan’s not ready for anything to change, one way or the other, and he just has to hope Phil understands.

It’s a dumb, cowardly move, but it works.

He doesn’t bring it up, and Phil doesn’t ask.

x

Manchester’s as perfect a fit as Dan will ever find for uni. It’s far enough away that his parents won’t expect him to come home frequently, it’s got a good law program, and he can see Phil whenever he wants. Most importantly, though, they accept him unconditionally; which is more of a metaphor than it is a relief, but Dan chooses not to think about that.

Phil’s elated that Dan’s going to be nearby, and has plans to show him around when he gets there, as though Dan hasn’t been a dozen times. Dan lets him go on about it for a while, content to just listen and play along. He’s got Phil on speaker and the phone resting on his chest, one foot swinging off the bed and bumping into the side of a box.

_“We have to go to Shakeaway,”_ Phil declares, as if they don’t do that whenever Dan comes to visit. _“I’ve been craving it for ages.”_

“You can go get it by yourself, you know,” Dan points out, but he knows it’s moot.

_“It’s less fun without you,”_ Phil says, and Dan can hear the frown in his tone. _“Besides, if I go alone, I can’t steal a sip of someone else’s flavour.”_

“That sounds so wrong,” Dan says, rolling his eyes but laughing along with Phil until their giggles fade out and it’s quiet for a few moments.

_“You excited about moving here?”_ Phil asks, almost timidly, and Dan grins.

“Yeah. ‘S gonna be really different but I think I’ll like it.”

_“Yeah. I think you will.”_

“Yeah,” Dan repeats, staring at the ceiling. “I’ll miss my car, though. Mum and Dad are selling it after we drive it there, since I won’t need it anymore.”

_“Rest in peace, uh,”_ Phil hesitates, and Dan gives an amused exhale.

“It doesn’t have a name. Never really got ‘round to naming it.”

_“That’s good, I guess. Means you won’t be too attached to get rid of it.”_

Dan shrugs, then realises Phil can’t see him, so he just hums in agreement. “I get to have one last long drive with it, though. Before I return to the hell that is relying on public transport. Seems like a good way to go.”

Phil agrees, and they fall silent again. It’s not awkward or forced, and Dan’s more thankful for that than most things.

He sits up and surveys his room, which is nearly devoid of his possessions and overrun by boxes and storage containers.

“Feels kinda weird to pack my whole life into boxes,” he muses, and Phil gives a sympathetic hum.

_“It’ll be weirder to pack your whole life into a room the size of a tin can.”_

“Thanks.”

_“Just being honest,”_ Phil says, laughing, and Dan can’t stop one corner of his mouth from quirking up.

“Whatever. Change is good, right? I’m ready for this.”

_“Good,”_ Phil says. _“I know you’ll love it, Dan. Uni’s a great experience.”_

“So I’ve been told.” Over. And over. And over again.

His friends from school all went straight to uni, and lagging behind has rendered him the outsider. The few times they’ve met up, Dan can barely contribute to the conversation. Yeah, revising and exams and the actual educational parts of uni aren’t fun. But the social life and the shared consciousness that everyone seems to have about the student lifestyle are. And Dan’s missed out.

But he's determined to make the most of the novelty while it lasts, as it’s all downhill from here. Not to mention the top-quality vlog content that university life will, no doubt, give him.

x

Mum and Dad actually follow through on their promise to let him drive alone, his boxes and things split evenly between the two cars. Dan appreciates the time to brood, but curses himself for leaving his iPod in - well, he has no idea where the fuck it is - but he remembers putting it _somewhere_ that’s not within reach of the driver’s seat. Sigh.

The radio will have to do.

He follows behind his parents’ car, letting the radio scan for probably forty minutes, before he gives up and reaches for the power button. Instead he changes the audio input, and his copy of _Riot!_ plays. He had completely forgotten it was in here.

His gaze automatically shifts to the passenger’s seat for a moment, which is occupied only by his backpack. The opening guitar reminds him of when Ella would sat there, belting out the lyrics to accompany his steering-wheel-drumming. He hasn’t spoken to her since the exchange that led to _Riot!_ being taken out of The Speedwagon and shoved into the CD player of Dan’s car, since the case was long-lost. A plastic grocery bag full of things that had taken up permanent residence at Ella’s house was thrown onto the passenger’s seat, and that was it.

It had been the day before Ella left for uni, over a year ago, and Dan doesn’t like to think about it.

He cranks up the volume, eyes fixed on the back bumper of Mum and Dad’s car. He’s alright until about halfway through _That’s What You Get,_ at which point he’s practically screaming along.

He adjusts the rearview mirror, tilting it to accommodate his posture. The fuzzy dice he gave Ella were still hanging from the mirror of The Speedwagon when he saw her last. It had been a few months since their breakup, but they were still there. They were the one thing she didn’t give back. They might even still be there. Ella sees them, sees Dan, when she needs to look backwards, and it’s all a bit too poignant for Dan’s liking.

Ella always skipped over _Misery Business_ \- she said it was too angry and just got her worked up over nothing. And maybe that’s true, but that doesn’t stop Dan from belting out every word, fingers clenched tight around the steering wheel, ‘cause if she won’t give him any closure, he’ll make it himself.

If he’s honest, Dan’s angry about Ella dumping him. She fucking _left_ him, after three fucking years, with no warning. It’s taken a year’s worth of hindsight for him to even consider that maybe that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with him; maybe they just weren’t built to last. They were young and smitten and had no viable future plans that could include both of them. The most tangible commitment they ever made to each other was Dan leaving this damn CD in her car.

And he spent a long time being sad, but never allowed himself to just get fucking mad at her for the sake of leaving hard feelings behind or whatever he was trying to accomplish. He’s done holding back and making excuses. Ella broke up with him so they could move on and go to uni, and he’s been on his way here for a long time, but now that he’s half an hour outside of Manchester, he’s ready to do just that.

x

His parents cry when they leave. He waves a wistful goodbye to his car when Dad drives off in it, a plastic grocery bag full of his belongings from it hanging from his right hand.

It’s not until he’s alone in his room that he cries, the weight of how much his life’s just changed in the past day curling his shoulders forward and making him hug his stuffed bear to his chest. It might be childish or pathetic, but given how thoroughly his emotional floodgates have been pried open, he allows it.

Phil comes to his later that evening, helps him finish unpacking, and even offers for Dan to stay with him for the night. Dan declines, though; the first night will be the hardest, and it feels like cheating to sleep over at your friend’s apartment when everyone else has to sleep on their terrible beds.

x

Phil wasn’t exaggerating about his room being the size of a tin can; he can barely turn around without bumping into something and his shins have begun to question just why the accommodation is so shit at a place of higher learning. Who can hope to learn anything in a place that looks like a prison?

Dan’s flatmates don’t let him treat it like one, though, and drag him to pubs and parties during Fresher’s Week. He’s pretty sure he’s gotten two of their names mixed up, but he avoids calling anyone by name, especially when ‘mate’ works universally and sounds friendly enough.

Phil refuses to kidnap him or come along.

_Go have fun!! Make friends nd stuff. Im too old to go with u_

Dan sighs but teases back before pocketing his phone. Mark - or maybe he’s Andrew? - abandoned Dan when he didn’t want to do karaoke, and Dan’s been nursing his second mojito and watching the madness unfold. It’s honest to God just like a nature documentary, observing everything from terrible drunk singing to terrible drunk flirting and just terrible drunkenness that the poor pub employees have clearly seen enough of this week. It’s enough to keep Dan glued to his phone with his back against the wall.

He’s normally a bit more sociable, but given that he doesn’t know _anyone_ , he’d rather just melt into the background ‘til he sees someone from his hall leaving and he can follow them.

Mark or Andrew gets up on the stage, and Dan has a glimmer of hope that he’ll introduce himself before he starts, but no such luck. He dives right into a horribly off-key and slurred rendition of _Grenade_ , and Dan full-body sighs, ‘cause he’s not drunk enough for this.

A girl he swears he’s seen before leans against the wall next to him, sipping a drink and watching the makeshift stage too. She smiles when she catches his eye.

“Hi,” she says, loud enough to hear over the ‘singing’ and chatter. “You look familiar.”

“You do too,” he answers, and then the lightbulb goes off. “Oh, do you live across the hall from me? He’s,” he points to the guy on the stage, “my flatmate.”

“Yeah!” she replies. “I live in 304.”

Dan nods, and he’s definitely seen her before. That’s good enough for him. “Don’t think I caught your name, though?”

“Cassie,” she says, holding out a hand for him to shake, and he does so.

“Dan.”

“Nice to meet you,” she says, knocking back the rest of her drink. Dan wonders if he should offer to buy her the next one, ‘cause that’s what you’re supposed to do, right? Or is that only when you want to have sex with someone?

Okay, maybe he’s a bit more tipsy than he thought.

“Yeah,” he says.

The conversation lulls, so they both direct their attention back to the karaoke. Cassie sniggers behind her hand.

“I hate to laugh ‘cause I’m no better, but damn,” she says, and Dan laughs.

“Seriously. I at least save it for the shower. Spare others from hearing.” That’s not entirely true, as Phil complains loudly whenever Dan sings in the shower. But she doesn’t need to know that.

“Me too,” she says, and Dan assumes she’s not coming back when she walks away, towards the bar, but she returns a minute later with a fresh drink in hand.

“So how d’you like Manchester?”

“I like the city,” he says. “My friend Phil lives here, so I’ve been to visit him before and I really like it here. You?”

“Lived just outside here my whole life, so it’s not really much of a change,” she shrugs. “It’s cool, though. Everyone’s really friendly.”

Thankfully, Mark or Andrew finishes the song, and people who have free hands give a half-hearted round of applause. A girl playfully tugs the guy off of the stage, laughing and interrupting his bows. She looks up, and for a minute Dan thinks she’s looking at him, but Cassie waves. The girl winks at her.

“Who’s that?” he asks, keeping his tone conversational. He’s honestly just hoping to learn the _actual_ name of the guy who was singing.

“Maya,” Cassie tells him, winking back at her. “One of the friendlier people I’ve met. Think it’s too soon to ask her out?”

Dan sips his drink to make sure his face stays neutral. Obviously he doesn’t care that they’re lesbians, but it strikes him as odd that Cassie’s so casual about it. She doesn’t even _know_ him.

“She seems into you,” Dan says, watching Maya steal a few more glances at Cassie while she helps her friend off the stage. “Hey, do you happen to know that guy’s name?”

“Um,” she says, blinking rapidly. “I think he’s called Drew? Something like that.”

“Yeah,” Dan agrees, defeated. “But yeah. I think you should ask her out.” He’s got no reason to give anyone dating advice, but Cassie seems confident enough to pull it off. If someone asked him out with that much blunt interest, he’d probably say yes.

Someone. A girl, probably. Who knows.

“Okay,” Cassie decides, sipping her drink then staring at it contemplatively. “I think I’ll finish this first. Take the edge off.”

“Good idea,” Dan says, and gives her a genuine smile. She grins back, and Dan decides he might actually make use of the open-door policy in their hall to say hi to her once in awhile.

Maya says yes, and Dan excitedly, and with very horrible spelling, texts Phil the story. He replies with _:DDDD._

x

Dan learns that Karaoke Dude is actually called Andrew and usually goes by Drew. It takes an embarrassingly long time for him to figure it out.

He lives with two other people, Rebecca and Patrick, and neither of them are called Mark.

He does follow through on his drunken pact with himself to see Cassie every once in awhile. Every once in awhile turns into once a week, which turns into almost every time he can be bothered to be there. Despite the people being nice enough, he'd much rather stay with Phil. Phil's bed doesn't have broken springs or questionable stains. Dan keeps some food in his kitchen and buys a toothbrush to keep there and has a drawer in Phil's wardrobe - most of which Phil suggested he do.

True to form, they don't question or analyse it.

Dan's spending the night at Phil's since his seminar isn't til the afternoon, and Cassie's sent him three texts in the time him and Phil have been playing Crash Bandicoot.

_Are u in ur room?_

_Drew said you were there a while ago so idk ??_

_Either ur dead asleep at 11 or at phils so I'll see u tmrw. Or ur actually dead. Thatd be unfortunate_

Dan lets out a hasty laugh as he texts her back, and Phil eyes him curiously.

"Forgot to tell Cassie I was with you and she possibly thinks I'm dead."

Phil pinches his arm, giggling when Dan flinches. "Nope, you're alive."

"I'm also not dreaming and can still feel pain. Glad we went over that crucial information," he says, elbowing Phil hard in the ribs.

_Ahh sorry yea I'm at phils. seminars at 2 tmrw so I’m staying over at his_

"How's she doing?" Phil asks, placing the controller on the armrest and waiting for Dan to respond. He likes Cassie and she definitely likes him - so much so that Cassie complains that she feels like a third wheel around them 'cause they're so in sync.

Or "married as hell" and "fucking telepathic and impossible to beat at team games", to use her words.

"Good. Her and Maya are Facebook Official now. They're really cute together and it's gross."

_"Couples,"_ Phil says with an air of feigned distaste.

"I know," Dan agrees, setting his phone aside. "I assume her courses are going well but we don't talk about it much unless we feel like crying."

Phil frowns and nods, picking the controller back up and scrolling through the levels. He's probably the best person in existence, as he's never the first one to bring up Dan's coursework, doesn't push the subject, and refills Dan's ribena when he's revising.  Not only because he knows what it's like but because he knows Dan and what he needs, and okay, maybe Cassie has a point.

_Didn't u have a paper to do? O.o_

Fuck.

He shoots up from the sofa and grabs his backpack, digging around for his planner and opening up to the calendar. Yeah, he's got a fucking paper due Monday and he hasn't started and it's fucking Thursday - he checks the time on his phone - _Friday,_ and _Jesus_ he's fucked.

_Omfg I do thx for the reminder I would have forgotten it completely oh god_

He'd love to say that this is the first time this has happened, but he's convinced that his brain purposely blocks these things from his mind and prevents him from checking his calendar just to fuck him over and attempt to protect him from the utter panic that sets in when he's waited too long.

He doesn't realise he's muttering under his breath til Phils at his side, a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"What is it, Bear?"

"I forgot about a paper again. I fucking did it again. I wanted to film a video this weekend and now I have to write a fucking paper that I don't care about and will probably do horribly on."

"Oh no," Phil sighs, wrapping his arm around Dan and pulling him into a hug. Dan has to bend down to lay his cheek on Phil's shoulder.

"It's only been three months and I'm just so done with this," Dan admits, his voice small. "I hate this. I feel so useless."

Phil pulls away and rests his hands on Dan's arms, his eyes wide and sincere. "You're not useless, okay? You always manage to pull through in the end. I know you can do it."

"Okay," he says, but he doesn't really believe it. He'll scrape something together like he always does, and he hates giving less than his best effort on anything. But he just can’t be _bothered._

"You don't have to worry about it until after your seminar, okay? Let's go to bed."

Fair enough, he decides, and gets ready for bed in silence.

Phil curls up facing him and hooks an ankle around Dan's. Dan smiles at the gesture, refusing to acknowledge just how sweet it is, cause that - coupled with the way Phil’s looking at him like he's got all the faith in the world in him - would be a bit excessive.

Instead he just closes his eyes.

x

Cassie hosts a small get together in her flat while her housemates are out. Only Dan, Drew, and Maya are in attendance, and Dan’s mildly thankful for that. If they’re going to get drunk, he’d rather be around people he’s familiar with.

"Guess you get to be the Token Straight Friend," she says to Dan, passing him a shot glass and placing a bottle of flavoured vodka in the middle of their circle. Yeah, they’re definitely going to get drunk.

"Guess so?" he says, and it definitely comes out as a question, but no one seems to notice. Drew's gay and very open about it, and Maya and Cassie are dating, so he's almost afraid one of them will just Know somehow that he's not _quite_ straight.

Given that he’s barely come to terms with that himself, it seems unlikely.

Cassie finishes distributing the glasses, and straightens up, very serious businesslike.

“So, we could just get drunk, but I figure it’d be more fun if we played a game? How ‘bout Never Have I Ever?”

“How do you win?” Drew asks, and Cassie smirks at him.

“No one really wins,” Maya chimes in. “But everyone wins, ‘cause you just get drunk. Take a shot every time you’ve done something. Who wants to start?”

“I’ll do it,” Cassie volunteers. “Never have I ever, um.” She pauses, and Maya nudges her playfully.

“C’mon Cas, don’t hold back.”

“Is this just going to turn into a game of weird sexual comparison?” Dan sighs, and Drew and Maya answer ‘yes’ simultaneously. Cassie rolls her eyes.

“You can take the game wherever you want. _I’m_ setting the tone. Never have I ever straightened my hair.”

“I feel attacked,” Dan says, pouring himself a shot and then handing the bottle off to the others.

“With hair like this, it’s practically a political statement,” she shrugs, twisting a dark, springy curl around her finger. “I like to keep it natural.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Drew says, knocking back his drink. He’s got a buzzcut, so there must be some tragic hairstyles in his past. Dan makes a mental note to stalk him on Facebook.

“Are we going clockwise?” Maya asks after taking her shot, and everyone gives a general hum of agreement, so she takes her turn. Dan hasn’t been skiing either, so he lucks out.

Dan’s about four shots deep, his mind pleasantly fuzzy, when Maya goes again.

“Never have I ever kissed a boy,” she says pointedly at Drew, who broke her streak of two rounds without having to drink.

Bile rises in Dan’s throat before he realises that he could simply _not_ take the shot, and he doesn’t, but even then, his stomach gives a sickening lurch that he barely holds in a gag from. Maya’s staring at Drew for a reason: he’s gay. That’s why he’s kissed guys. Kissing guys when you’re also a guy makes you gay.

Dan can’t keep his eyebrows from shooting up when Cassie reaches for the bottle too. Maya gapes at her, eyes wide and disbelieving.

“What?” Cassie asks, knocking it back.

“I didn’t know that,” Maya says quietly, and Cassie just shrugs.

“That’s what this game is about. Learning weirdly personal things about each other. While we’re here - I’m bisexual.” She turns to face Maya, who’s gone very red in the face. “Never really came up in conversation, I guess. Anyway, whose turn is it?”

It’s Drew’s, but Dan doesn’t catch his statement on the second or third repeat. He’s never actually heard the word spoken aloud before - _bisexual._ Never heard anyone he’s known personally call themselves that. It always seemed like something people just said, rather than an identity that they owned. Given how casually Cassie just threw that out there, he can only assume she’s comfortable with not only that label, but with them as well.

The concept blows his drunk mind, and he has to excuse himself from the game to process it properly. Something about being alone in bathrooms really makes one come to terms with how drunk they are, and Dan puts himself at a solid six out of ten.

This isn’t the time to do this and he knows it, but he stares himself down in the mirror, and forces his mouth to form the word - bisexual. You’re bisexual. Pretend you’re bisexual and see how it feels.

He rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand, and exits the bathroom without formulating a decent reason for his absence or why he’s about to leave. He just stumbles through it, and no one really seems to question it, as they’re pretty drunk too. That’s a plus.

He forces some water down before he goes to sleep, ‘cause if his parents did one thing to prepare him for uni, it was tell him how to avoid a nasty hangover.

What they didn’t tell him was how to cope with questioning your sexuality when what you’ve been feeling seems to manifest itself in a single word that, until now, you’ve seen as a joke or a lie or a phase. And it just clicks into place before you have time to really think about it.

He’ll talk to Cassie tomorrow, he decides. Do a beta test to see if the label sticks. Do some more research even though he remembers exactly how the websites he looked at forever ago defined it.

Even if he doesn’t figure it out, at least he won’t be hungover.

x

He still hasn’t worked up the courage to talk to Cassie three days later. But thankfully, the opportunity presents itself, ‘cause what sounds like Cassie yelling startles him when he pulls his earphones out.

He can’t make out any words as he creeps through his flat. Drew’s poked his head out of his room too, and gives Dan a shrug, as if to say _your guess is as good as mine._ From what he can gather, she’s having a very heated argument with someone. He feels bad for whoever thinks they can best her, but he’s concerned that it’s so loud. That can’t be good.

Dan goes out to the hallway, where several people have come to stand in their doorways as well. Shit. He stares at Cassie’s door, chest tightening at the sudden silence.

_“You’re just like everyone else!”_ Cassie shouts, and Dan has an overwhelming urge to shoo everyone back into their flats. Despite the volume, this isn’t a conversation anyone’s meant to hear, and he knows it. Just as he formulates a guess as to who she’s fighting with, Maya bursts through the door and storms away so quickly that Dan can’t even catch her facial expression. Whatever it is, it’s enough to send everyone on that side of the hall inside with their tails between their legs.

Cassie stands in the doorway, wiping her eyes and scowling. She sniffs and looks up at Dan, who gives a sympathetic frown.

“Can I talk to you?” she asks, her voice small. Dan gestures into his flat, and gives the remaining hallway dwellers a dirty look for good measure before he shuts the door behind him.

Cassie plops onto Dan’s bed, reaching for his stuffed bear, but hesitates. She looks up at him, a request for permission in her eyes, and he gives a solid nod. She hugs the bear to her chest, and Dan sits down at his desk, spinning the chair to face her.

“Maya dumped me. As if that’s not obvious,” she says, and Dan nods.

“‘M sorry.”

“Yeah, me too,” she sighs, fiddling with the bandana around the bear’s face. “She dumped me ‘cause I’m bi. Didn’t want to be with a girl who’d slept with a man. As though I’m a ruined piece of furniture she doesn’t want to sit on or some shit. If you’ll forgive the pun.”

“Damn,” Dan sighs.

“Yeah, it’s such bullshit. I’m so sick of these Gold Star Lesbians thinking they’re better than me ‘cause they haven’t been with a man. Just ‘cause they don’t like men doesn’t mean they’re awful. You blokes aren’t so bad,” she says, and Dan gives a strained laugh. “It hurts more from lesbians, too. You’d think they’d get it. Being objectified and ridiculed and not taken seriously. Same shit, different label. But it’s so much worse.”

Dan nods. In truth, he has no idea what to say. It’s a lot for him to take in, a lot he’s never considered before - not even in his few days of beta-bisexuality.

“It’s hard, Dan,” she says, welling up again, and Dan dives for the tissue box next to his bed to offer her one. “I’m just. So tired of being rejected for who I am. I like guys and girls and everyone in between or outside of that - I really don’t see what’s so hard to understand? I don’t see why I’ve got hell to pay for it; from straight people and queer people and _myself_ , for God’s sake. It’s not a fucking contest!”

Cassie stands up, grabbing a fistful of tissues and gesticulating with them as she paces the tiny space available to her.

“If I’ve been with men, I’m not gay enough. If I’m with a woman, I’m just a lesbian. I’m confused, I’m going through a phase, I’m not worthy of respect. It all sounds the fucking same to me.”

She blows her nose, and Dan’s heart sinks somewhere between his ankles, because somehow, he understands. He’s been fighting with himself about all of that, been internalising all of the horrible messages and radio silence about his sexuality, for _years._ And Cassie’s got the brunt of it straight through the heart.

“You’re so lucky you’re straight,” she says, slumping onto his bed and hiding her face in tissues.

Risk of making her crisis about him be damned, Dan doesn’t know when he’ll get another chance like this, so he grabs it before he loses his nerve.

“Um, I’m actually not? I kind of think I’m bi too.”

Cassie sits bolt upright, her eyes wide. “Oh, fuck me, I just assumed ‘cause of your ex-girlfriend. I’m so sorry, Dan. That’s a shit thing of me to do.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I’ve honestly only been calling myself bi for - well - since you said you were the other day.” It sounds so stupid when he says it aloud, but Cassie smiles. “I’ve been messing around with the word for a long time, and you being comfortable enough to share that with us was just. I dunno. It made something click.”

“Well shit, just when I was ready to give up my bi card and just face the music that I’m a straight, experimenting uni student,” she says, standing up and crouching over him. The hug’s awkward as hell with Dan sitting down, but he doesn’t care, and wraps his arms around her as best he can. “Thank you for telling me, Dan. I know that’s tough shit.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, and grins at her when she sits down. “Fuck, is that what coming out feels like?” He’s relieved more than anything; he never expected it to go that easily with anyone. He’s told _someone._ There’s someone else on this earth who knows, and that makes it more real. Maybe that even makes it true.

She opens her mouth and shuts it again, and there’s his answer. “Um. Imagine the opposite of my reaction. And everything in between. From everyone you know and will ever meet, and having to weigh the pros and cons of doing it when you’re considering all those possibilities.”

“Well, don’t sugarcoat it for me, Cas,” he snorts. “Leave something to the imagination.”

She rolls her eyes and throws the bear at him.

“I think we’re closer now that we know each other’s big bad secret. Not that it’s really a secret, but you know. That thing that you’ve got to be like level-three friendship to unlock about someone.”

Dan sighs, as he wouldn’t even consider being bisexual his secret. The real secret is why he’s pretty sure about it. And fuck, he’s already on a roll.

“Actually, um. I’d say mine’s more interesting than that.”

Cassie leans forward, elbows on knees and hands on face, and Dan gives a nervous laugh.

“You know Phil, right?”

“Oh my _god,_ I knew it!” she says, and Dan gapes at her.

“Fuck off, you didn’t let me finish. We’re not together. But we did - um,” he pauses, and Cassie’s put her serious expression back on, so he continues. “We made out once. Well - more than that. You could call it hooking up, I guess.”

“Sorry,” she says, giving her head a little shake. “When did that happen?”

“Oh god, um,” Dan’s eyes roll to the ceiling as he counts back. If it’s February now - “over a year ago?”

“And you just carried on like nothing happened?” she asks, and for the first time in this entire conversation, Dan considers lying so she won’t think he’s awful. But he doesn’t.

“No,” he says, his voice small. “He wanted to talk about it, I snapped at him. Haven’t talked about it since.”

“Dan, you have to talk to him,” she says resolutely. “I mean. I really can’t tell you how to live your life. But if you’re still thinking about it, odds are he is too. Especially if you’re as close as you were then.”

“We’re probably closer,” Dan says, and he realises just how ridiculous that is.

“Then go with your gut,” she replies, giving a small smile. “You know him better than anyone. If you think it might be a good idea to talk to him, then do it.”

“Okay,” he says, leaning back in the chair and tasting death when he leans back too far. He immediately pushes himself back upright and Cassie makes a valiant attempt at hiding a snort-laugh. “Fuck.”

“Did you see Phil when your life flashed before your eyes just now?” she jokes, and Dan throws the bear at her head.

It’s quiet for a minute, and Dan wonders how he’s even going to bring this up to Phil, when Cassie breaks his concentration.

“Right, so, I have to ask. Out of pure scientific interest. How was it?” Dan bites his lip and his face blushes red hot. Cassie grins at him. “That good?”

“Enough wank material for a year, to lay it all out there,” Dan says, mostly under his breath, and she offers up a hand for a high five. He meets her hand and bursts out laughing. “This is so ridiculous.”

“What is?”

“How badly I wanted that - and still do - and it still took me this long to get my shit together?”

“It’s a process,” she reassures him. “Want to go get ice cream in celebration of your self-discovery?”

“Definitely,” he agrees, standing up. “And ‘cause you just got dumped and I’m being a terrible friend by not offering _you_ the ice cream.”

“We’ll call it even,” she says, and they high five again for good measure.

x

Dan knows that Phil knows that he’s nervous. They’re sat on edge of Phil’s bed, post video-filming, and Phil’s eyes have tracked the movements of Dan’s wringing hands and refusal to make prolonged eye contact. He knows. But Dan can’t just dive into it.

“So, um, Cassie and Maya broke up.”

“Oh no, really?” Phil frowns, tilting his head up a little to show he’s listening.

“Yeah,” Dan sighs, and he recounts the story for him, putting extra emphasis on how Maya broke up with Cassie because she’s bi. Phil’s sympathetic, sure, but he doesn’t appear to have as strong of a reaction as Dan did. “It’s just awful that she would do that, you know? I liked Maya but that’s like. Supremely shit.”

Phil nods, and Dan’s waffling like hell and fidgeting with the sleeves of his jumper.

“Yeah, that’s happened to me,” Phil says. “I mentioned an ex-girlfriend to a guy once and he just stopped texting me. I brought it up next time I saw him and he said he didn’t want to waste time on someone who was confused.”

“Wow.” Dan grimaces. “That’s terrible.”

“Yeah, was really disappointing at the time. I kinda liked him.”

Out of synonyms for ‘bad’, Dan just nods a bit too vigorously. “Yeah that’s such bullshit. Like, being bi doesn’t make me confused?”

Dan blanches and stares at Phil, eyes wide and probably full of terror. Phil just raises his eyebrows, and Dan shrugs.

“So you think you’re bi, then?” Phil asks, nothing to interpret in his tone.

Dan’s uncrossed his legs and has one shaky foot hanging off the side of the bed now, and Phil gracefully ignores it, eyes on Dan’s face the whole time.

“I mean it seems like it fits? I dunno how anyone can really know for sure but yeah.”

Phil grins at him, and Dan’s just relieved to see him show any kind of emotion. “Cool. I’m glad you figured it out, you know?”

“Yeah, me too,” Dan says, his foot finally relaxing, but he’s still picking at the hem of his sleeves. “It would explain, um. That one time.”

This is hardly the best way to bring it up, but Phil’s going to bluntly ask what’s wrong if Dan doesn’t get on with it. Phil visibly swallows.

“I know it’s been a long time but d’you want to talk about it?” Dan asks, his voice small.

“We can if you want to; don’t feel like you have to.” Phil’s offering him an out, but Dan’s not taking it this time. If he’s going in, he’s gonna dive headfirst.

“Um. I think we should.”

“Okay,” Phil agrees. They pause. “Did you want to start, or?”

“No, you can go if you had something.”

“No it’s fine, you go ahead.”

Dan takes a deep breath, ‘cause he’s never felt so awkward around Phil before, and if that isn’t a sign that this needs to be talked about, he doesn’t know what is.

“Right, okay. I really didn’t know what I was doing or feeling back then, but I guess you know that better than anyone? I’m sorry I’ve put this off for so long, but it took me a while to figure out why I wanted you so bad. I’ve only ever felt like that about one person - a girl - so that like. Kind of threw me off.”

Phil’s face melts into a soft, fond sort of smile as Dan babbles. But Dan’s almost gotten through everything he wanted to say, so he keeps going, this time adding hand motions, as though it’ll help.

“And if like. If you don’t want me back that’s okay, I really wouldn’t expect you to after all this time. And I promise it won’t make it weird.”

Phil reaches forward and grabs Dan’s hands mid-gesticulation, gently pressing them onto the bed to still them.

“Dan listen - it’s okay. I understand you weren’t ready and I shouldn’t have pushed you like I did. _I’m_ sorry. No wonder you didn’t want to talk about it.”

Dan’s jaw goes slack, ‘cause that wasn’t on the list of a hundred possible reactions that Dan had made in his head over the past day or so.

“You didn’t have to push me,” he says. There’s no reason for Phil to feel guilty. “I was a very willing participant.”

“No, I was like, all over you,” Phil insists. “I should have known better. I guess I was just. Kinda crazy about you. Kinda still am.”

Dan sighs audibly, which dissolves into a giggle. Phil laughs too, and Dan beams at him.

“That’s good to know.”

“Whatever will you do with this information?” Phil asks, his voice light and playful.

“Not sure yet,” Dan says, releasing his hands from Phil’s and cupping either side of Phil’s jaw. Phil snakes his arms around Dan’s waist, pulling Dan closer. “Can I kiss you?” Dan asks, his voice breathless and low.

“Please,” Phil says, and doesn’t move until Dan does.

Dan presses his lips against Phil’s softly, once, twice - until Phil kisses him back with the force he wants.

“Um, what do you think about a repeat of what we did before?” Dan asks.

“I’d like that,” Phil murmurs against Dan’s mouth. “Or more, if you want.”

“Yes,” Dan replies, and the realisation that they have to scoot properly onto the bed makes them pause and laugh. Dan has to stop and snort into his hand when Phil does it, leaning back on long, graceless limbs and awkwardly shuffling up the bed.

“You look like a bug that’s been flipped on its back,” he says, and Phil covers his face.

“You know, I was really looking forward to getting off with you but now I think I’d rather never do anything _ever_ again,” he whines, voice muffled by his hands.

Dan climbs on top of him, stripping off his shirt and pulling Phil’s hands away from his face.

“It’s okay, I still think you’re hot.”

“You’d still have sex with me if I were a bug?”

“You sound like one of those horrifying ‘would you rather’ questions.” Dan shakes his head and starts unbuttoning Phil’s shirt, his hands shaking a little.

“You didn’t answer, though,” Phil says, and Dan shakes his head again.

“What will it take to get you to stop talking about bugs while I’m stripping you?”

“Kiss me,” Phil responds without a second of thought, and Dan is happy to oblige.

Dan had a variety of fantasies about how this scenario would play out, but none of them really came close. All of the playfulness and fun he thought he had to leave at the bedroom door sneaks its way into his kisses, the way he drums his fingers against Phil’s chest, feigning impatience while Phil tries to maneuver them both out of their trackies.

Phil literally makes a pun about submarines while he sinks between Dan’s legs to suck him off, and yeah, it’s a lot more awkward and weird than Dan had imagined it would be. But who says you can’t mix passion between the moments of stillness or silliness, where you’re both naked and wanting but unsure of what to do next?

Dan decides that balance is key - not only in that sense, but in the literal one, ‘cause Phil nearly falls over when he gets up to get them some tissues to clean up with, and it makes his butt jiggle in the most hilarious way.

x

Dan’s mildly offended that his parents don’t react at all when he tells them he’s bringing someone with him when he comes down to Reading for his birthday. It’s his twentieth so Mum insisted on cooking for him and all of that, so he figures this is as good a time as any to make his family aware of his relationship with Phil.

“Yeah, I, um. I met someone up here, so I was wondering if it’s okay if I bring him?”

Dad’s got the phone on speaker, and neither him nor Mum say anything for a very long moment.

“Of course, dear,” Mum says quickly, evidently having realised how much time passed.

“We’d love to meet him,” Dad adds, and Dan can tell they’re really trying, which is such a goddamn relief.

“Okay, yeah. He’s excited to see you too,” Dan says, glancing at Phil, who’s giving a stupidly exaggerated grin from across the lounge. “I’ve gotta go, speak to you later.”

Mum and Dad say their goodbyes, and Dan groans when he ends the call.

“D’you think they know it’s you?”

“Nope,” Phil says resolutely. “I think they might’ve said something if they did.”

“Yeah,” Dan agrees. “I’m gonna be pissed if they don’t react at all. Like if they’re just like ‘well fuck, Dan, we already met your boyfriend years ago, where’s the new one,’ or something.”

“Can you _really_ blame them?” Phil asks, setting his laptop aside and joining Dan on the other sofa. “They love me. And it’s kind of a logical progression of things.”

“What d’you mean?” Dan asks, slinging one leg over Phil’s lap and tucking his face under Phil’s jaw. He presses soft, breathy kisses to Phil’s neck as he talks, taking all too much pleasure in making his breath hitch.

“Well - I mean - it kind of makes sense - that we’d wind up together.”

“Yeah?” Dan asks, pulling away and looking at Phil, genuinely wanting to know his thought process.

“Yeah. I mean. We’ve never gotten on better with anyone,” he says, slipping his hands under Dan’s shirt and rubbing his back in long, careful ovals. “We spend all of our time together, whether we’re working or just hanging out. We’re constantly flirting with each other.”

Dan wrinkles his nose, and Phil giggles. “Right, we have _friendly banter_ , sorry.”

“The friendliest,” Dan says, trailing his fingertips down Phil’s chest.

“And, like, when I think about it, it just makes sense. Why shouldn’t I fall in love with my best friend?”

“Yeah,” Dan agrees, grinning. They’ve had a tangential conversation to this one many times since they got together, but Dan never tires of it. “Couldn’t agree more. Remind me again about how I’m your first love?”

Phil takes that as a challenge, scratching light marks into Dan’s back as he keeps his voice low and sucks a hickey onto Dan’s neck, apparently unconcerned with the fact that they’re going to see Dan’s family in two days.

He really doesn’t give a shit.

x

Seeing the lightbulb go off in each member of his family’s heads - Mum first, then Dad and Adrian - is nothing short of amusing when he steps aside to present Phil to them.

“Oh, hello Phil,” Mum says, glancing at Dan, who merely smiles. Click. “Oh, Phil!” she says, reaching forward to wrap him in a tight hug before she does so to Dan. Repeat two more times, and the result is Dan, smugly self-satisfied and leading Phil to the dining room by the hand.

“You enjoyed that too much,” Phil chastises, and Dan just grins at him.

“Hey, I’m allowed to have a little fun, aren’t I?”

“Only on Tuesdays, and it’s Thursday.”

“Dammit.”

Surprisingly, dinner plays out exactly like any other time Phil’s come to visit, except Phil gives Dan’s thigh the occasional squeeze when he makes a dumb joke - or one at Phil’s expense.

And, of course, Dan’s parents catch him when Phil’s upstairs with Adrian.

“So, when did that happen?” Dad asks, head cocking towards the staircase.

“You’re implying that hasn’t always been happening,” Mum says nonchalantly, and Dan raises his eyebrows.

“A few months ago, actually,” he says pointedly.

“Okay, okay,” Mum says, clearly picking up on his annoyance. “I’m just saying that I always had a feeling.”

He bites back his question about what exactly that feeling is, ‘cause he really can’t stand the thought of his family just thinking that’s gay now. He’s not gay, not even half. One hundred percent bisexual and also one hundred percent committed to a relationship with a man.

If only there were a way to say that without it sounding pretentious or presumptuous or just turning into a weird vocabulary lesson. He has no idea if his parents even know what ‘bisexual’ means. Dan has no fictional characters or out-and-proud celebrities to point to for reference that he can think of. The only thing worse than his parents thinking he’s gay is his parent’s knowing he’s bi and thinking he’s gay.

“You and everyone else,” he says, defeated.

Dad looks like he’s going to say something, but Dan walks away before he can.

x

Dan insists on sending Phil home before he visits his Grandma, ‘cause she probably won’t react well to his having a boyfriend. She’s scarily Catholic, and what little Dan’s heard of her views of homosexuality haven’t been pretty. He loves her, and she can be hilarious, but he’s just especially wary of the subject now that he feels like he’s got a Big Queer Secret crawling under his skin.

They go out for a proper afternoon tea, and everything’s coming up roses until she mentions she’s learnt how to navigate YouTube.

“I always watch your videos when I go on the Internet,” she tells him, and he assumes that isn’t that often. “And the other day I spent quite a lot of time on the website you put videos on and I saw some of your friend Phil’s videos,” she tells him, placing her teacup back in its saucer.

“Oh yeah?” Dan asks, holding onto a biscuit for dear life. There’s nothing incredibly incriminating there, except a bit of less mature behavior that he’d like his grandma not to see, but nothing that should make him shake like he is right now.

“Yes,” she says, smiling and selecting a dessert from the tray in front of them. “Some of his videos are quite… odd.”

Dan snorts, partially out of relief but mostly in agreement. “Yeah. He really likes to play around with different styles of editing and stuff.”

“Mm,” Grandma agrees, looking up at him. “I wouldn’t think any less of him for it, but is Phil one of those queers?”

Dan’s stomach drops, and he tries to keep a neutral expression as his face drains of all colour. _Fuck._

“I mean, it’s entirely his business but he just seems so, hm. Strange. And very expressive in a slightly flamboyant way,” she continues, and Dan’s literally shivering at this point, all of the hair on his body standing on end.

“No, um, I don’t think so,” Dan stutters, and thankfully she’s busied herself with picking out another cake. “I’m going to use the toilet, I’ll be right back.”

Dan stands up so quickly it rocks the table a bit, but he hastens to get out of her sight and into a bathroom where he can have a meltdown in peace.

He locks the bathroom door behind him and presses his back to it, plugging one nostril to keep from hyperventilating. He feels so _sick,_ but not in the literal sense. He doesn’t want to throw up, but he feels like he could, because everything inside him just feels _wrong_ and disgusting.

_One of those queers,_ his grandma called them - called _him_. Unknowingly, granted, but maybe that even makes it worse. If she ever found out about who he really is, what would she do? He can’t do that to her, and ruin the image of her perfect, do-no-wrong grandson.

But that’s just it - there _is_ something wrong with him. Not only does he like boys but he can’t even explain it properly if he tried; not to his parents or his brother, his grandma, the internet, or even Cassie, who’s every bit as bi as he is but it’s still different. It’s too different for Grandma to understand or forgive him for.

He could tell her he’s happy and in love with a man, and she’d promise to pray for him.

He feels like a liar for hiding this part of his identity from nearly everyone he cares about, like he’s holding back a crucial piece of himself. There are places it doesn’t belong, like on the internet, but for god’s sake, he doesn’t feel comfortable enough to say it in his own house. And it’s eating away at him, until one day he’ll snap or make some kind of dumb joke about how something not completely vertical ‘isn’t straight, like me’, or some shit.

And none of it’s any fair, ‘cause not even all people in the queer community accept bisexual people wholeheartedly. If he can’t find solace in his family, or the LGBT community, or his viewers, where’s he supposed to find it?

He manages to calm himself down enough to get through tea, and angrily texts Cassie throughout his train ride back to Manchester, but she’s too busy to have an actual conversation.

He’s so hard-pressed for validation that he even takes a damn Kinsey scale test, which puts him at a two. He disagrees with most of the questions on principle, ‘cause _no_ he obviously doesn’t find having sex with men repulsive, but he doesn’t think he would if he were completely heterosexual either. In practice, ‘more than incidentally homosexual’ seems like an understatement.

So it’s nearly inevitable that he unloads it all on Phil, but when it happens, he’s still sorry about it.

“It’s not fucking _fair,_ ” he says through clenched teeth. Phil’s eyes follow him as he paces the lounge. “The whole fucking world is fucked up and it’s never gonna be any different. Not in my lifetime anyway. The word _bisexual_ will always sit like a dirty word on daytime tv, will always mean ‘confused’. It’ll always be wrong in my grandma’s eyes. I’ll always be wrong to her if I tell her.”

“‘M sorry, Dan. I wish I could help,” he says, and Dan’s just angry and stupid enough to get _more_ riled up at that.

“I know! I wish I could do something too. But it’s not that simple and it never fucking will be. I just want someone to understand.”

He looks at Phil imploringly, as though he’ll read Dan’s mind and tell him exactly what he wants to hear.

“You understand, don’t you?” he pleads, but Phil bites his lip.

“I can’t really relate, Dan. My family’s supportive and they love you.”

“No, no,” Dan says with a wave of his hand. “You understand what it’s like to be bi! You have to, okay? I mean you’re basically bi and I sometimes I wish you would just say it.”

Phil’s face crumples, and Dan wishes he knew when to shut the fuck up. “Yeah, me too. I wish the word sat as well with me as it does with you,” he retorts.

“Phil, I’m sorry. I respect that you don’t like labels, okay? I’m just angry and I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Phil says, and he gets up and goes to his bedroom - _their_ bedroom by most definitions. But Dan wonders if he should just leave, ‘cause this technically is Phil’s apartment until they move into their own in two months. He can’t leave things like this, though, and knocks on Phil’s half-open door timidly.

“Yeah,” Phil says, not really looking up. Dan sits beside him, hugging his knees to his chest.

“‘M really sorry, Phil. That was insensitive and uncalled for.”

“I forgive you,” he says, looking up with a sad smile. “I just - I wish I _could_ understand. I wish you were right about me. It’d be easier if you were.”

“I’m inclined to agree most things would be easier if I were in charge,” he teases, and Phil leans his head on Dan’s shoulder. He sighs heavily, ‘cause the nagging little voice at the back of his mind won’t let him forget the biggest thing he would change.

“Sometimes I wish I were straight,” he admits, and Phil gives a small hum of agreement. “I could marry a nice girl and have some babies and dogs and call it a heterosexual life well lived.”

“Sounds okay in theory,” Phil concedes.

“Yeah. But that’s just. Not who I am even if it’s what’s expected of me.”

“Are you suggesting you would destroy heteronormativity if you ruled the world?”

“That could only be an improvement,” Dan says, snaking an arm around Phil’s waist. “What about you?”

“Hm. I dunno that I would change anything. With regards to myself or who I love and all of that. ‘Cause you’re pretty alright.”

“Thanks,” Dan says, giving his side a squeeze. “But really? Nothing?”

“Guess not. I mean, I’d give myself better eyesight and maybe the ability to secrete popcorn.”

“There’s the answer I was expecting.” Dan gives a small huff of amusement.

“Yeah. I guess I’ve just found my way down the path of self-acceptance. Took a while, though. Got stuck a few times. You helped. The view was great along the way. All that stuff.”

“Hm,” Dan thinks, resting his cheek against Phil’s hair. “Guess you could say that the road to self acceptance is winding.”

“Yeah.”

“So it’s. Not straight.”

“Shut _up._ ”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This story means a lot to me and I'd be so grateful if you left me a comment and told me what you thought. You can also come say hello on tumblr :) thatsmistertoyou.tumblr.com/mail


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